


Five Months

by AcidGreenFlames



Series: It's a Mage Kind of World [5]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: AU, AU typical violence, Angst, Broken Bones, Corpses, Descriptions of Blood, Established Relationship, Eventual Lemon, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fighting, Fluff, Humans, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mages, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Culture, Sans (Undertale) Has Issues, Slice of Life, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, description of an attack, description of an explosion, mention of depression, not believing victims
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:15:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 93,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22247707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcidGreenFlames/pseuds/AcidGreenFlames
Summary: For five months, the monsters have been on the surface and everyone is settling into their new lives.Sans and Papyrus, are no different. They've found their family, and happiness is found in baby steps.
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Original Character(s), Sans (Undertale)/Original Character(s)
Series: It's a Mage Kind of World [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1467457
Comments: 81
Kudos: 73





	1. The Cemetery

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies, 
> 
> I'm back from vacation and posting again. I was hoping to have had this one posted this last weekend but I've been really sick with the flu and have only been well enough to do so. 
> 
> This is the last slice of life fic before we jump into the next major arc, and this will have a bit more world building that will help set up the next set of fics. 
> 
> Bit of a warning for this chapter, there is some talk of eugenics in this chapter specifically.

Sans learned quick enough that the mages, for all their strengths, for all their power and magic, they were not without faults. They were not gods that were undamaged, god tier maybe, but not gods. They could hurt, they could be damaged. They could bleed. 

They’d bled enough, Sans thought. They bled for their Coven, they bled for each other.

They bled for him.

They had their quirks. Lilith felt deeply but didn’t show it to anyone outside their Den. Felix didn’t feel deeply at all about anyone beyond their Den but could fake it well. Lola was afraid of the dark, a hold over from an encounter with something from the dark during the war. Sloan had the most beautiful voice Sans had ever heard, hands down, but couldn’t carry a tune. Ryder was the biggest marshmallow that Papyrus and Frisk could talk into literally anything, despite the gruff, scared exterior.

They were as human as anyone, even if they didn’t see themselves as such. They were good and flawed and they were his. They were his people, his family, his mages. Yes, Lilith was his mate, but the rest? They were his too. In their own ways, his brothers and sisters as much as Papyrus.

They were his, and he would keep them safe.

He knew them, knew them all. Loved them all.

But he loved Lilith best, and knew when something was wrong when she came down for breakfast one snowy morning. She doesn’t look miserable per say. Just, her frown was a little deeper on her usually neutral face, the set of her shoulders a little stiffer. 

Her dark eyes flickering muddy ruby and back again was the biggest tip off that something was bothering her; Lilith had a master level control over her magic and intent, and that wasn’t control right there. She didn’t sing at breakfast with Felix and no one spoke to her. Sans frowned as he watched their Den mates dance around her, not ignoring her exactly, just not…engaging.

Avoiding maybe?

Lilith had eaten quietly, making Sans uncertain and his eye-lights narrowed in on her depressed expression. Something was wrong, clearly, and Sans found it unsettling that no one was talking about it.

He shared a nervous look first with Papyrus then Undyne. They look just as confused, just as worried but the mages don’t seem to be anxious.

It hits Sans after a moment, their lackadaisical response to Lilith’s quietness, her dower mood. Something was bothering her, something was hurting his mate 

And their Den knew what was wrong.

Glancing to her phone, Lilith heaved a sigh, glowering at the time before pushing herself to her feet. She pressed a kiss to Sans’s cheek, then Frisk, told everyone that she’d be back later and was gone.

Didn’t stick around to hear their goodbyes, didn’t get her assignment for the day, didn’t even pause to be smarmy. She didn’t tell Sans where she was going.

Frowning after her, bright eye-lights glared at the rest of the Den, his mouth pulling into a frown, “Ookay. The hell was that? Where’s Lilith going?”

From the corner of his sockets, Sans can see Felix go stiff and still, like he does when someone makes him uncomfortable and he’s debating on whether or not hitting the thing is worth it. Sloan heaves a sigh of someone who has seen too much, and Ryder makes the choice decision to stuff more toast in his mouth.

Three sets of eyes not so subtly look to Lola, who sighs at the lot of them and glowers, “You guys suck.” Her voice is soft as it always is, but there’s steel in that tone.

Flicking her long, glossy black hair over a shoulder, Lola squares up with Sans like he’s facing off against something much larger then she is. It makes something twist in his soul, and he can’t help but think that maybe Lola is getting ready to face off against something bigger then herself.

“Lilith has gone to visit her father.” The words are simple, each has meaning but when strung together they don’t make sense.

They don’t make sense, because…because Lilith’s father… “Her father’s dead.”

Sans frowns at Lola’s overly calm expression and her slowly blinking eyes. They are dark without her magic making them emeralds, shining green with power and life. “Yes. Yes he is Sans.” Her words are slow, and it causes Sans’s brow to furrow and an ache to grow in his chest.

“The cemetery,” Lola’s voice is still slow, and she’s the only one who doesn’t look uncomfortable by death. The healer, the shield maiden of their little Den has seen death in ways the others haven’t and has been reminded that they are not gods. “Is in the forest. The trail is thin, and the trees are close together so its hard to walk through. The trail is on the other side of the lake, the entrance is by the large black rock.”

Sans blinks at her, feeling his soul twisting in his chest. Lola, soft, healer Lola, held his gaze with a rock-hard stare, “If you’re going to find her Sans, go before she makes it to the cemetery. She gets cranky if she’s disturbed once she gets to there. Once she gets started."

It takes a moment for Sans to understand the meaning of her words, and with a frown side steps into a short cut.

-

Finding the rock had been easy, there was only one like it in their yard. Heavy and black, like volcanic glass that had been left unpolished; it was easy to see the path with the stone marking it. The heavy snow helped Sans to follow Lilith’s trail, the air crisp in the early morning sun and he felt a shiver ripple through his magic.

Living in Snowdin long enough had given Sans a sense for the weather, for snow at least and it was definitely going to snow again tonight.

Ignoring the weather, Sans shuffled forward in his pink slippers and he wished he’d grabbed his black converse. At least his feet would have been dry and warm.

Eh well, it’ll give Lilith something to gripe about and help forget about her dead father.

The path to the cemetery was easy to find without the thick foliage hiding the winding pathway, and now it was obvious. Lilith’s boot prints helped too, heavy and steady. She didn’t hesitate as she made her way into the forest, and it made it easy to follow.

Pushing aside any self doubt, Sans followed her tracks, trying to walk quickly to catch up. The path to the cemetery was winding and a little awkward to walk, and his feet caught on roots, losing his slippers more then once. Frustrated, Sans persisted even as the pink fabric became soaked with water, and he can’t wait until he’s been to the cemetery. Next time he’ll short cut there.

His feet are cold and scuffed by the time Sans gets to the cemetery; it’s bigger then he thought it would have been, with at least a dozen or so rows of grave stones, all lined up neatly. It’s a quiet, somber place, the kind of place that you instantly use an indoor voice even when your outside, so you don’t disturb the peace.

It’s quieter then the cemetery where the monsters monument was erected to honor the dead, there’s something dark about this place. Like the dead rest, but maybe not…really? It feels the same way the fog does, when something old and cruel is crawling around the mountain.

Sans shakes it off, trying not to let the dower feeling of the place get to him, and sets off down one of the pathways to look for Lilith. It doesn’t take Sans long to find her; she’s only four rows in, near one of the ends of a row. There’s a big apple tree over the grave she is kneeling at, and Sans wonders how pretty that must be in the springtime, and wonders if Lilith ever comes here during the blooming.

All thoughts are pushed away as Sans wanders unhurriedly to his mate; he wants it to look like he wasn’t chasing after her, despite how worry chews at his non-existent guts. Lilith doesn’t like it when he worries about her, her battle mage instincts insisting that she do the taking care of. 

Sans always thought to hell with those instincts, if he wanted to care for Lilith, he would.

However, he doesn’t want to upset her right now. Later, when Lilith is on more of an even keel, they’ll talk about it. Like rational adults do, and Sans is almost amused that he’s become the adult in the situation.

Instead, Sans shoves all that away for later. Right now, he only has eyes for Lilith, and doing what will make her happy.

She’s on her knees, the light snow soaking through her pants as she lights a set of incense sticks, soft grey smoke coiling up from the burning lavender. There’s a moment, just before he wanders into her field of awareness, when her magic will recognize his as a non-threat, just before she knows he’s there, that her face pulls into a look of hurt. A sadness so deep that it takes away his breath, makes Sans’s soul ache and cry out to its mate, demanding he do something to make it better.

Then, Sans steps passed that threshold, and Lilith can feel his magic near her. That’s all it takes for her expression close off nearly instantly, that hurt look disappears immediately and her mental walls snap up high and hard; she turns her cold, crimson eyes to him, her face one of neutral displeasure and it makes Sans’s soul ache with it.

It had been such a long time that she had looked at him like that, not since the underground, like she was keeping him at an arms length and that she didn’t care about him. Sans lets it sting for a moment, before he recognizes this for what it is, a defence mechanism for something that is clearly hurting Lilith and she doesn’t know what to do with that hurt.

It’s easier to push people away when you were hurting like that, Sans knew from experience, but he also knew how to push past that. After all, he just had to mimic what Lilith did for him.

Instead of turning and leaving, or letting his bruised soul get the better of him, Sans gives her a grin, and drops into the snow beside her. Crimson eyes track his every movement, slow and cautions, like she’s afraid that he’ll mock her for this.

That in of itself makes something boil in Sans’s soul and his LV spiked; had someone mocked her for grieving? Had someone made her feel like she had to fucking hide when she was this upset?

Sans settles next to her, pushes those thoughts away and swallows back the bitterness of his LV, stuffing it back into its own little box. It wouldn’t help him here and waited. Lilith will talk to him when she was ready. If she was ever ready, and Sans wouldn’t push her for information.

Instead, he settled into the light dusting of snow, leaning back onto his hands and looked at the simple grey gravestone with what looks like ancient runes cut into the marble. Lilith watched him a moment longer before she relaxed and turned back to the stone. Her eyes closed and she began to mutter a soft prayer that Sans didn’t understand.

Eh well, he didn’t need to understand. He just needed to be here. Even if it’s cold and the silence is awkward. Even if Sans’s magic burned in his bones with his own anxiety and stress, not knowing exactly if he was doing the right thing.

It’s a long time before Lilith moves, and Sans was halfway asleep sitting up when she finally moved from her knees to sit back into the snow. Her pants soak through immediately, but she doesn’t seem to notice the cold as she leans back onto her hands. Her skin goes pale at the cold touch, but crimson magic is keeping her warm and she can ignore it.

Still, Sans scotches over, getting a little closer to his mates’ side so he can touch her. It’s light at first, and Lilith doesn’t reject his light brush of their arms, so Sans takes it as an invitation. He presses into her side to create a warm line between their bodies, and Lilith sighs softly, leaning a little into the touch.

“My mother is a traitor.” She told him suddenly, looking at the grey tombstone, “And everyone in this cemetery is a member of our Den that she killed.”

That gives Sans pause, he frowns as he looks up and down the lines of tomb stones, can feel a part of himself that is bruised and hurt, press in on itself. It’s not quite grieving, but something close.

There’s a lot of graves here.

Crimson eyes glance around the cemetery, cold and detached in away that makes Sans worry. There’s anger there, boiling just beneath the surface. Coiling tight enough that it’ll smother Lilith if given the chance.

“When our Coven leaders discovered that we could tap into deeper, richer magic by…” she pauses, and Sans feels his soul clench, “By cross breeding our people, we had hope to win the war.”

Sans’s face scrunches into confusion, his soul does an odd flip and knows that he won’t like the answer to the question he asks slowly, “Cross breeding?”

Lilith doesn’t look at him when she nods, her face is too blank and Sans reaches out to take her hand, “Yeah. My father was a battle mage and my mother is a spell caster. Hybrids are stronger.” She pauses, and doesn’t squeeze his hand back, “That’s why I’m better at spells then Felix. He’s a pure battle mage, possessed by a demon. I’m a battle mage, but I have some spell caster traits.”

She pauses again, and her hand doesn’t leave his, but it’s another long time before she speaks again; Sans keeps quiet at her side, and he doesn’t once let go of her hand. Her voice is rough and small, “The Coven decreed that, as an assignment, strong mages were to couple to produce stronger mages. You were assigned a partner and you had no say in who your children’s father or mother was. An entire generation of children who were bred for war based on whose parents had the best genetics. Who had the most power, the deepest wells of magic.”

Sans feels himself go still, his eye-lights guttering, and he clenched his teeth at the thought of his perfect, beautiful mate being forced to bear children she didn’t want to have. Lilith glanced up at him and can sense his unasked question, “No. I was never given that particular assignment. By the time my Coven realized I wasn’t cannon fodder, I was too valuable to take from the battlefield.” Her smile is bitter, “but I don’t doubt that they would love the chance for me to have offspring.”

Sans feels a wash of anger roll over his soul, anger that he’s not directing at Lilith, “Would you have?” he doesn’t mean to sound so angry, so bitter.

Lilith shrugs, her mouth pulled into a frown, “Probably. If it meant we won the war.” And that makes Sans feel sick, feel anger bubbling in his soul at the thought that Lilith was born and bred for war. That those who were supposed to keep her safe would have sold her off as a breeder had she not been what she became, and Sans wonders if that was in part the reason for her brutality. Was that part of the reason that she became the personification of Death itself.

He doesn’t ask her.

He keeps holding her hand when she falls silent for a time, but this time Sans is paying attention. He sees how stiff she is. How her mouth is turned down into an angry line, how much this all hurts her.

“My mother believed in the purity of blood.” Lilith said softly, her voice raw, “Saw me as filthy. A stain on her family’s reputation, they had all been spell casters for generations. And then there was me. A dirty little battle mage with too much raw power funneled into physical attacks.”

Lilith licks her teeth slowly, and Sans doesn’t know what to say. He’s angry, so, so angry at those words. Words that likely had been flung at her carelessly.

“So, one night, she killed them all.” Lilith’s voice is low and detached, and Sans feels his soul twist, “She plunged a knife into my chest up to the hilt, and that’s how I found out I had the healing trait. She left me for dead, nearly killed Sloan and Lola, then proceeded to kill all of our Den mothers and fathers. The mages who were supposed to teach us and protect us.”

She lets out a shaky sigh, and Sans scoots impossibly closer, “Then she killed all the other children, before she left for the Durhem Coven.” She glances at the other tomb stones before her eyes drop again, “She killed everyone but Maia, and another Den mother. She died, broken heart, not long after the whole shit show.” She shrugs, face blank and eyes dull, “Maia became our Den mother and raised Lola, Sloan and I. Ryder came later, his mother had him at her Den’s territory, but she shipped him to us when he didn’t have what she thought was a good trait. Doesn’t matter really, he was always one of ours.” Her expression brightened, only a little, at the mention of her Den mates.

Still, it’s a lot to unpack, so much pain to processes that Sans doesn’t know where to start, “So when you said your parents split….”

Lilith snorts, “Yeah. It wasn’t a good break up.” Any small amount of happiness fades from her face, “My dad came home for about a year to help Maia with the three of us, later the four of us. The last of our Den. When he went back to the front, my mother found and killed him.” Lilith shrugged, and Sans could see how much all this bothered her.

“So, that’s that.” She was the daughter of a traitor, the daughter of a dead man who was bred into a war she didn’t start by parents who didn’t love each other.

“And…Frisk?” he had heard the story, or at least part of it how Lilith came to be Frisk’s legal guardian.

Lilith gave him another shrug, “Every year, all the Covens get together to celebrate the end of the war. It’s like this shitty excuse to pretend everything’s alright with our society and we aren’t all fucked. Since so few of us are left, the Den magic that binds us together is all out of wack. The elders figure it’ll be at least another two, maybe three generations before it relines itself and rebuilds the Den magic. Real Den mates are rare to find now,” she glances nervously to Sans, but he already knows the truth. Felt it since he admitted he loved Lilith; his magic bound him to her Den. He was theirs and they were his, simple as that. “So, this Gala, thing. Younger mages can look for their Den mates, or, lacking a Den, petition to join a Den to learn.”

“I’m gonna guess,” Sans’s voice is slow, “That no one asks to be apart of your Den?”

Lilith snorts, and shakes her head no, “No, never. They’re all too afraid. But it was at this Gala, like three years ago when I saw my mom again. With Frisk, and at first, I was so angry. It just wasn’t fair. Why did my mom get to live, with a new shiny kid, when so many of my friends died horribly? When my Den had been warped so completely, after she destroyed our family. Why did she get to be happy?”

Lilith takes a breath, and finally squeezes his hand, “And then I looked at Frisk. Really looked at her, and she was so afraid. So tiny and weak, and I knew. I knew my mother wasn’t taking care of her. Frisk was a shiny new toy for my mother to flaunt, and my baby sister was suffering for it. And I knew that Frisk, was one of ours. So, I did what any battle mage would have done in that position.”

“You challenged your mother to a duel?” and Lilith’s smirk cuts through her face like a knife at his words, and the cruelty is her answer.

“It took us months to get Frisk to open up to us. Everyone thought I did it to spite my mom, and maybe I did. A little.” Lilith frowns at the tombstone, “But I don’t regret saving her. Not for a moment, not when I know what Frisk’s life would have been like if I hadn’t taken her.” What Sans’s life would have been like without Frisk to bridge them together.

They fall silent again, and Lilith stares at her father’s tomb stone, face hard and impassive, “We haven’t seen Maia in a long time. She’s too weak to travel and we’re needed here. It’s hard for us to leave, and our stint in the underground had reaching consequences. Dens thinking we’ve gone soft.” Lilith takes a breath, and any lingering anger is stuffed into its tight, dark hole, “She’s dying. Her magic is fragile, has been for years. But. But I hope you get to meet her before she dies. I think she’ll like you Sans.”

Sans looked up at her, his face softening a little and he gives her a small grin, “You think so?”

Lilith’s mouth twisted into a small smirk back at him, “Yeah. Maia. She’s a seer, that was her trait. She didn’t get many visions of the future, but enough. She always told us we’d have a big Den, but I never believed her. I thought she was telling us that to make us feel better.” Her smile becomes a little more real, “But I think she saw you.”

It’s oddly comforting, to know that he was fated to be here. That he was always meant to find Lilith, but he doesn’t tell her that. Knows how she feels about fate.

Instead he sinks his fingers between hers and holds her hand, relishing in the heat between her fingers when she squeezes his hand back.

Sans sits next to her for the rest of the morning, quietly listening to her breathing as Lilith sits in front of her father’s grave. He’s a guest here, and Gaster taught him how to behave when you where a guest in someone else’s house.

He sits with her in the cold, wet snow until Lilith sighs when the sun is high, and she quietly packs up the burned incense to make her way back down the trail.

Sans doesn’t offer to short cut her home, this seems important, and holds her hand as she guides him back the way they came.


	2. Den Mates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sloan and Undyne talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Lovlies, 
> 
> More fluffy, fluff this chapter. I'm planning the next chapter to have heavy angst, but we're not quite there yet. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Sitting at the kitchen table, head in hand, Undyne stared at the glossy wood, drumming her sharp fingers. Perplexed, she didn't focus on anything, confused at what the last five months has brought them.

It was great, honestly it was. The happiest Undyne had ever been, the happiest any of them had been, but something just didn't make sense. Something always niggling at the back of her mind like some kind of dark cloud.

Things were better on the surface, not perfect but Undyne has learned at an early age that nothing was. You had to embrace the imperfectness of life, and Undyne was _happy._

Hell, even her punks were happier.

Sans actually smiled and meant it; his bones gleamed ivory now and his magic looked healthier, the dark smudges under his eyes were lighter. Hell, he _looked_ healthier.

Sans was happy, and some soft spot that Undyne had for the smallest punk pulsed with affection every time he lit up when he saw the battle mage. Sans deserved this; he really did. He raised Paps all on his own after showing up in Waterfall, no caregiver in sight. He helped care for Undyne herself after her grandmother died, and he suffered terribly at the hands of Chara.

Undyne still had nightmares about the day Lilith had called her for help, telling her that Sans had been assaulted. Undyne has nightmares that when she had gotten to Sans, the attack had been the final push for him to Fall Down, and he stared at her with hallow, dead sockets before he dusted in Lilith's arms.

Growling softly, Undyne pushed the thoughts of what happened to Sans and the nightmares away. She should probably tell the mages, maybe look into getting help for it, but that would be admitting to having a problem.

Undyne sighed and scrubbed at her face.

Sans was happy, and so was Papyrus. That’s what mattered.

Her best friend had been doing so much better since coming to the surface, his smile brighter. His mood more cheerful, something Undyne didn’t think was possible but it was true.

The stability and affection the Den of mages gave to Papyrus surely helped, but what helped the most was that the Den didn't treat him like a child. They treated them like one of their own, trusted him with important tasks and he _flourished_ under their guidance _._

Sloan was teaching him the finer details of politics, the ins and outs about the cultures around them. Important things that when coupled with Papyrus's natural good nature, made him an impressive ambassador. Little Frisk couldn't do it all herself, hell even the mages couldn't, and Paps was a perfect member for that team.

Felix and Lilith of course taught him how to defend himself, what tactics to use when, and when necessary to use lethal force. Sans approved of those lessons even if Papyrus himself didn’t.

Lola started to show him how to use his magic to generate a shield, and although not a natural at it, Papyrus was getting pretty good at it.

The soft little kindness mage was also teaching him to bake, and he'd improved by leaps and bounds since Undyne tried to teach him.

He tended to set fewer things on fire and made things that were edible under Lola's guidance.

Then of course there was Ryder. The big, burly mage looked hard and cruel, even sounded dangerous, but was a soft butterball when it came to his family. That seemed to double when it came to Papyrus, and since Christmas they had become closer. One was not far from the other, touches lingering and soft gooey smiles made even Undyne feel soft.

They were getting attached, and Undyne was glad for it. For one, Papyrus deserved all the happiness in the world. For another, with Ryder as a boyfriend, the illusionist was a brick wall of protection that would defend her bestie with vicious intent.

Undyne had seen the way Lilith defended Sans, and she had _no_ doubt Ryder would be the same.

Papyrus was in love, and Undyne couldn't be happier.

Of course, her own love life had taken a turn for the better, just before Christmas Undyne had admitted to Alphys that she might, sort of, just a little bit, like her. Alphys of course had gone red as a cheery, and fainted, but it had been a start. The start of all the good, soft things for them.

Life was good, content. Things were going so well, for everyone.

So why couldn't Undyne just forget about that silly little niggle at the back of her mind? Why did it always sit there, always just there to bother her? Why couldn't she just accept it? Why did she have to _pry?_

It didn't make sense, the mages reaction to them. To her and Alphys.

Sure, when they had come to the surface, it made sense for her and Al to stick with them at the time. Sans was so fragile, and Papyrus _needed_ her, that they hadn't questioned staying with the mages then.

It had made sense that when Lola arranged for all the other monsters to stay at hotels, Air BNBs and Inns, that Sans stay with Lilith. That had been a given.

It had also been a given when Papyrus stayed with them too. Where Sans went, so did Papyrus and vice versa. The Skelton brothers never strayed far from each other.

Yet, they treated Undyne and Alphys the same. Simply expected them to come along for the ride and didn't question them when they set up rooms for them both. Their own rooms. Not only on mage grounds, but in their _home._

The longer they stayed with the mages, the more comfortable they both got; they set up a lab in the basement for Alphys and Sans. They trained with Undyne, taught her too cook. They included Undyne and Alphys in all Den related matters; Friday Movie Nights, Breakfast, Gyftmas, the important family things for the mages.

In all honesty, Undyne didn't mind it. She liked the mages, she _fit in_ with them. She clicked with them; it was like she was apart of....

Well. It didn't matter what she thought or what she hoped for. What she felt underground or here on the surface.

Sloan floated into the room in that eerily graceful way that she moved, like a hunting predator, but different from how Lilith and Felix moved. There was something sleeker about how Sloan moved, like a shark gliding effortlessly through the water rather then a jungle cat. Both equally as dangerous in their own way, in their own environment.

The spell caster walked in and slowed, her bright smile falling a little when she saw Undyne; she tried to give Sloan a grin, she really did, but Undyne couldn't find it in herself to so.

Not deviating from her course, Sloan glided to the fridge, pulling out two cans of coke before taking a seat across the table. Dark, elegant fingers nudged one of the cans towards Undyne before Sloan opened her own.

Blinking at her for a moment, Undyne sighed and opened the can. She took a mouthful just as Sloan finished her own, before the mage commented, "You seem bothered by something Undyne."

It was said so lightly said, so non confrontational, that it had Undyne's metaphorical hackles up. No one said anything that lightly and didn't want something, wasn't digging for _something._

Her eye narrowed on the mage, and claws drummed along the wood of the table, “What makes you think something’s bothering me?” she doesn’t quite spit the words, but it’s a near thing.

Sloan gives her an amused look, takes another mouthful of her soda, “Well,” she says slowly, “I didn’t take you for the sulking type, but here we are.”

Agitation licks through Undyne, and she sits up a little straighter, her voice taking on an edge of hostility, “I am not sulking.”

Sloan, the brat that she is, smiles at her as she drops her chin into her hand, “Brooding then?”

That irritation flickered again and Undyne continued to glare before she dropped her eye to her can of soda, “I’m not brooding.” And if that sounded like a sulk, well Undyne didn’t admit that but Sloan’s smirk told her all she needed to know, “Just thinking.”

Sloan took another mouthful of her soda and settled in with a bright grin at the Monster. Undyne scowled at her, a dark look that usually had the Monsters of the underground scattering, but Sloan merely smiled at her with the patience’s of a spell caster.

The patience, gentle smile, the kind eyes, the _feeling_ of being safe here. Like magic that bound them, like…

Undyne sighed, “Why’r you so nice to us?” it’s said unusually small for Undyne, and it makes Sloan frown a little.

“What do you mean?” clearly Undyne has caught her off guard, judging by the confused, open look on her face.

Undyne heaves a sigh again, placing her can on the table, leaning back in the chair and crossed her arms, “Why are you so nice to us?”

Sloan blinks at her, full lips pulling into a frown and her brow furrows, so Undyne continues, “Like. I get Sans and Papyrus. I mean.” She gives a little snort and a grin, “I mean Sans is,” she hesitates, “Sans is in love with Lilith. She loves him too, so it makes sense that he lives here and well, where Sans is, Paps is. So.” Undyne trails off with a shrug.

Blinking at her slowly, Sloan’s head tilts as understanding slowly begins to take root, “But why are you here?” 

Undyne nods, “Yeah. That.”

Sloan’s smile is slow, like she’s delighted about something or gets the joke that Undyne doesn’t get. It annoys her, she doesn’t like not getting the joke, even as Sloan’s words are amused, “Undyne, how do you feel in our little group?”

Scowling at her, Undyne scrubs at her chin with her knuckles, “How I feel?” something weird twisted in Undyne’s chest, awkward and stupidly afraid. It made Undyne want to scoff at herself, what did she have to be afraid of?

_~~Rejection, maybe? Being cast out when she had finally found some place she fit right in? She could fight right along side Lilith and Felix, knew how they were going to move before they did it, and she didn’t want to lose that.~~ _

Undyne wasn’t afraid of anything, and certainly not something like a feeling.

“Good?” Undyne tells her slowly, and she realizes that the nervous scratch at her chin is giving her away, so she crosses her arms again to cling at her biceps. ~~~~

Sloan hums softly in an encouraging way, nodding along, that patience smile firmly in place, “What else?”

Squirming, Undyne does her best to settle herself, tamping down that nervous energy and looks Sloan in the eyes, “Like….” Undyne hesitates, “Like I can be myself here.” The mage continues to hold her eye quietly, and Undyne refuses to look down, “Like. I’m wanted here. That I fit in here.”

Sloan’s smile brightens at her words, her sly smile still firmly in place, and her tone the same light, non-confrontational as it had been since the start, “Like you belong?”

Something pulses in Undyne’s soul, warm and full of magic, _binding_ magic. Like Sloan’s words meant more then just their surface intent, like it mattered more then just Sloan trying to make her feel better. Like there was deeper meaning to them, just out of sight, and Sloan was just waiting for Undyne to get it.

“Well. Yeah.” She says slowly, the pulse in her soul going steady, pulsing warm and plush. Almost like…

“Sloan.” The mage smiles at her, white teeth flashing, “Are we bound to your Den?” the words are hesitant and uncertain, and Undyne internally braces for rejection. For laughter and scoffing at the thought.

Instead Sloan smiles at her, and takes another mouthful of her Coke, “I was starting to wonder if you could feel it.” Undyne goes still, uncertain of what the mage is saying, and her hearing drowns out with static as _something_ overwhelms her. Sloan is still talking in that smooth, slow voice, her tone amused, “I mean, Monsters are made of magic and mercy, so it would make sense that you could sense it. You’ve just not been taught what it means.”

Undyne swallows hard, and her voice unusually small despite the warmth that is blooming in her soul. It’s different from what she feels with Alphys, but it’s similar, kin to what she feels about her girlfriend, “What is it?”

Sloan tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and even such a simple move is filled with such grace, all her mannerisms so graceful and gentle seeming. Nothing about the mages were gentle, none of them and if that’s what you saw, it was a trap.

Undyne had marched side by side with Sloan underground, was next to her when they took back the Capital from Chara and Undyne _knew_ just how not gentle Sloan could be. “What your feeling?” she asked, and Undyne nodded.

“It’s Den magic. Real Dens, like ours, are bound together through an ancient type of magic that ties mage’s together. Lilith didn’t recognize it in Sans sooner because she hadn’t felt it in someone new for so long, and by the time she realized what it was she already loved him. I started to feel it in you after you went on a rescue mission with Felix and Ryder to find Alphys.” Sloan shrugged, and the expression of regret was quickly hidden again by the smile, “We just needed you to feel it too.” 

The magic, and the truth of it, pulses warmly in Undyne’s soul. Binding them together, like a family and Undyne knew she wouldn’t be rejected.

“We haven’t had new Den mates in over three hundred years,” Undyne looks up, frowning at the brief uncertainty on Sloan’s face and it dawns on her that she isn’t the only one waiting to be rejected, “So we didn’t want to scare you all off.”

“Right.” Undyne glances down at her soda can, thumbing the rim. She can feel the tension growing from Sloan as she goes still and tense. “Does that mean we’re like what? Sisters?”

Some of the tension finally leaks from her, and Sloan relaxes, “If that’s what you want us to be.” This time the nonchalant tone doesn’t fool Undyne, and she can hear the uncertainty just beneath the surface, “It doesn’t have to be that way though. We can just be Den mates.” Sloan swallows and she’s hesitant when she adds, “Or friends if that’s what you prefer.”

Hesitating, Undyne fidgets with the can, “A lot of my people are gone, died in the war. Like the skeletons, they were warriors and our numbers took a heavy hit. A lot more died underground before we found Waterfall.” She pauses before continuing slowly, “Sans took care of me after my grandmother died, but she used to tell me stories about what our pods used to be like. We used to have huge numbers, lots of members of our pods and I always felt like I missed out on that. I always wanted sisters.”

The smile Sloan gives her is slow to grow, but the mage beams at her words, bright and happy even as her words are calm, “Felix would be your brother too.”

Undyne sighs. Felix. The weird one, the crooked one.

The one who went with her to find Alphys. The one who held Sans and protected him when something upset Sans. The same one who murdered an entire Den of mages who had tried to get Felix to turn against his family and murder Monsters.

Felix, who was a little off plumb but was loyal and strong and protected _them_.

“Yeah, Felix is alright.” It’s an admission, and if at all possible, Sloan’s thousand-watt smile grew.

Yeah, Felix was alright. He was one of Undyne’s after all, and Undyne took care of her people.

Now she knew, without a doubt, that this was where she was meant to be.


	3. Confrontation with the Judge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans has a conversation he'd rather not have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Lovelies, 
> 
> Please be aware that there is discussion of Sans's experience back from The Ninety Fourth time in which he was raped by Olivia. Warnings for this chapter: talk about a violent, past rape, rape culture, not believing victims. 
> 
> This is a fairly heavy chapter, so please take care of yourselves.

The joke rolls off Sans’s tongue with ease, and the crowd around him erupts in peels of laughter that makes his soul soar with delight. His smile is bright as the Monster’s around him laugh, and at least one claps his shoulder when he’s told that he’s still got it.

There’s a weird wave of nostalgia as the waves of laughter slowly peter out and Sans settles back happily in his stool at Grillby’s new bar. It’s a scene right out of Snowdin; the dog pack is playing cards at one of the tables at his back and the punk hamster was still hanging off of the juke box. Austin, the red bird that likes to think he could translate what Grillby was saying, was still hanging off the bar pretending to translate what Grillby was saying.

There were differences that broke up the monotony, things that reminded Sans that he wasn’t underground anymore; there was a small knot of humans in one corner having dinner, not caring that they were surrounded by monsters.

A small group of fae and nymphs were having drinks, settling in for the night, celebrating something among their group. 

Olivia was dead and gone, and she was never coming back. Now, a mixed group of humans and orcs sat in her spot, they laughed and drank, ignorant of whose spot that used to be and what she had done to him. 

Sans was fine with that; he didn’t want to remember Olivia and he was more then happy to forget what happened underground.

Grillby wiped down the bar top, and quietly placed a bottle of ketchup in front of him with a nod. Sans give a mocking little gasp, taking the bottle with a grin, “Ketchup. Grillz, it’s like you know me or something.”

Grillby chuckles, picking up a clean glass to pull a measure of beer for a waiting customer, “Yer welcome Sans.”

“I always knew you loved me.” Sans sighed dreamily, taking a swig of his ketchup, laughing at the look of disgust from the humans one table over.

Grillby rolled his eyes, and shook his head, “So where’s your girl? Your relationship is still real new, thought you two would be hanging out.”

Sans snorts and pushes his shoulders back, trying to look like a mature adult, “Grillz, Lili and I aren’t joined at the hip. We _can_ spend some time apart, and it’s probably good for us to spend time with our own friends sometimes.”

“Mhmm.” Grillby doesn’t sound the least bit fooled or convinced, “She still out on the other side of the territory?”

Slumping, Sans sighs as he leans into the bar top, the illusion of being a mature adult shattering as quickly as he put up the impression, “Yeah. She, Sloan and Saja have been out there for five days. Hunting some jerk whose been hunting goblins, four have gone missing from their village already.” Sans sighed again, taking a mouthful of ketchup, “They’re getting close to finding them. Won’t be much longer, Sloan’s used a tracking spell to help find them. It’s just,” he shakes his head, mostly at himself in his own dismay, “She’s so warm and soft Grillz, and I miss her.”

Grillby laughs at him, which is fair, so Sans continues, “So yeah, Lili is away, and I’m bored.” And he’s a little sad, if he’s going to be honest with himself, “So I thought I’d come entertain the masses.”

Grillby laughs again, shaking his head at his old friend and that makes Sans feel good about himself. Like maybe he was worth a damn, that maybe the things that Lilith and his therapist told him where true. He was rebuilding his confidence from the ashes that Oliva had left them in after the attack, and Lilith had been encouraging him to meet with his friends again.

He took up her suggestion when she had been away, and it looked like she’d be gone a while longer yet, “New bar looks good Grillz.”

The fire elemental nods, his mouth pulling into a small grin as the fire that makes up his body pops, “Yeah. It’s becoming quite a hot spot.” He nods towards the humans and fairy tale folk who are drinking and eating, spending their money, “A melting pot for the community.” It was all Grillby had ever wanted, and warmth pulsed through Sans. He was happy to see his friend happy, to have his dream come true.

“You know Sans,” he glanced up at Grillby’s words, “I never did thank ya for helping Fuku with her homework. She’s passing science because of you.” 

That nurtures something in Sans’s soul too, to be recognized for something he did after so long underground, after so many resets when no one remembered him stopping the demon. Or, remembering when he gave up.

“Ah, it’s nothing Grills. I don’t mind helping the kiddos.” Sans hope he sounds cool about it and not a bashful wreck that he feels.

Grillby opens his mouth to say something else when someone from down the other end of the bar calls for another round, and bright eyes of the fea staring hopefully at the bar tender. Grillby sighs, and Sans waves him on, “Duty calls Grillz. I’ll catch ya in a bit.”

It’s with reluctance that Grillby goes, and Sans thinks that maybe he should make an effort to come out a bit more. That maybe Lilith _was_ right, and he should come see his old friends in the new world, that it would do him some good. Would do his friends good too, to see him from time to time when he wasn’t dropping this kiddo or that off.

Besides, he’s been out all evening and nothing bad has happened. No panic attack, he didn’t even sense bad intent. Overall, Sans had a great night out on his own and seeing some of his friends.

It happened as the bar was becoming fuller, packed in a way that made it tight and hard to maneuver in his seat. Hell, with so many bodies pressed into the tight space of the small but very popular bar, it made it hard to breath. Made it far too hot and Sans felt like he was starting to sweat in his hoodie.

It was time to hit bricks, Sans thought. This was too busy for him, too many people in too small a space and it made his bones itch and his LV rumbled unhappily. Impossible to keep a socket on everyone, and there were no mages to watch his back tonight.

He had to be up early anyways, to help get Frisk up and off to school while Lilith and the others were away. Lola, Felix and Ryder were still back at home, but it was part of the arrangement. They made breakfast, Sans and ~~mostly~~ Papyrus would get Frisk up and made sure she got dressed. 

Paps was a lot more gentle with the kid to get her up and at’em. Papyrus liked to wake them up gently, with a nudge to their shoulder and a soft voice. Sans liked to put whoopie cushions in their pillow if they didn’t wake up the first time Papyrus tried.

Word had it that Papyrus and Ryder were supposed to be leaving too, off on some diplomatic mission with Undyne to speak with the Mer about territory for some of the aquatic monsters, and very soon their already tiny Den would dwindle down to four for a while. So, yeah, Sans had _responsibility_ now, and he took caring for Frisk as his most important job. Just as important as it had been when he was taking care of Papyrus when he’d been in stripes still.

It was time to go, and Sans was just stating to glance around the bar and debating the pros and cons of simply short cutting back to the mage compound rather then trying to fight his way out of the crowd when someone new pulled a chair up beside him.

It was the smell that hit Sans first; like a fish that had been left out to rot in the sun, and it made Sans recoil a little bit when the stench finally hit him. Turning towards the source of the smell, Sans can’t help find it as familiar as it was revolting, a smell that Sans had encountered before but couldn’t quite place it until he saw it was Jerry that had pulled up a seat next to him.

Frowning a little, Sans tries not to let his discomfort show on his face at the stench from Jerry, and right now the spending of extra magic seems worth the cost to escape the start of this particular hell. Jerry’s small, greasy body is curled around the polished bar, sitting awkwardly in the stool as he breaths heavily in his nasally little way, staring up at Sans with polished, doll like eyes.

Yeah, no. Jerry creeps him out, there’s just something _off_ about Jerry and Sans can’t quite put his finger on it. Like the intent to harm was just low enough to only give the Judge within Sans a prickle of something to worry about, but never enough to act on it.

Sans always wondered what he’d find in Jerry’s soul if he ever looked, or if Sloan ever had thought the same with her soul trait. Sloan had clearly never looked if Jerry was still alive, and Sans was certain he’d need a bleach bath if he ever did.

Fuck it, short cutting home it is. With a quick nod, Sans gives Jerry a small, half smile and begins to gather magic in his cracked soul to go home. He’ll deal with the fall out of using so much magic to short cut so far later, and just have a good long nap after he gets Frisk off to school in the morning.

“Heya Sansy.” Jerry titters, and it makes Sans pause. He cursed Gaster for a moment for instilling all that polite bull shit into him as a kid, and he simply can’t _leave,_ it’d be rude.

“Hey Jerry.” It’s a quick thing, bored and distant, and Sans hopes its enough to satisfy this terrible social contract that Jerry has trapped him in so that Sans can make good his escape.

“No girl tonight?” he asks, and it’s cordial enough, but something about it sets Sans’s nerves on edge and he goes tense.

“Uh. No, she’s off saving the world.” Sans leaves it purposely vague, it’s none of Jerry’s business what Lilith is doing.

“Oh, yeah. Does that a lot doesn’t she.” Sans hums an agreement, eye-lights dim and bored, looking for his escape. “Hey, what was it like to get fucked by Olivia?”

It’s said so lightly, so _off handily_ that Sans almost missed the words that were so carelessly said. Jerry is still breathing deeply, in that nasally way he breaths, and Sans’s entire world suddenly grinds to a halt. A chill runs down his spine, and suddenly Sans feels cold despite the hot bodies that are pressing in around him. His hands tremble as Jerry’s doll like eyes stare up at him waiting for an answer, “I. What?” There’s a lump in his throat choking him, heavy and thick, and that’s all Sans can get passed it.

“What was it like to get fucked by Oliva?” Jerry asked again, uncaring as Sans’s eye-lights constricted into tight pin pricks, and his permi-grin became a grimace as the words finally sunk in, his soul sinking.

“She. We. I.” Sans shook his head, gobsmacked at the words that were so carelessly being flung at him, unbelieving that this was actually happening right now, “What are you talking about.” The words are raw and small, unable to comprehend what was being said.

Jerry snorts, and its an ugly sound, “Well, I mean. Olivia was fine before she turned traitor and your girl stabbed her. Heh, I mean. I’d have tapped that even when she was a traitor, a pity Lilith got to her first.”

Sans doesn’t know what to say to that, isn’t sure there are words that are appropriate to that. Jerry doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care, as he continues, “I mean, if _I_ had a chance with Lilith, I’d lie about fucking Oliva too. No need to piss off the mage right?” Jerry licks his oddly dry lips despite how greasy he is, gross little flakes peeling away from his lips, “But honestly Sans. How good of a fuck was Oliva? I bet it was good. I bet she was good. I bet it felt good.”

“She raped me.” His words are hallow and small, and Sans’s world narrows down to just him and Jerry; his chest feels tight, like its hard to breath, and he’s frozen in place. He feels cold despite the sweat that is starting to drip down his skull and his soul is heavy. He can’t move, can barely get the words passed that lump that’s leaving him bleeding. 

Jerry makes a face, and his words are mocking, “Sans. Come on, we all know your lying. Oliva didn’t rape you.” His words are cruel and mean, said carelessly, “She couldn’t have raped you, you’re the Judge. You’re a LV 10 monster who killed children.” Sans flinches at the words, at the truth that is so cruelly shoved in his face. Like salt in the wound, a rare truth torn from him that leaves him bleeding.

Jerry scoffs at him, “Raped. _Right_ , and I’m the Queen of Monsters. Now, c’me on Sans. _Spill_. What was it like?” dark, beady eyes glance around, “Lilith isn’t here Sans, you don’t have to lie. I won’t tell the mage, that’s why your lying right? You don’t want her to know you fucked Oliva, so you made up that story.” He shuffled closer on his stool, his reptilian like body brushing at Sans’s arm, making him cringe away, “So come on Sans. What’s it like? Did she rock your world? Was she tight? Or did she play with you?” he pressed.

Sans isn’t sure he has the words to describe how he’s feeling now, something akin to horror maybe? Nausea twists Sans’s nonexistent guts, and for a horrifying moment he can feel Oliva over his prone body. He can _feel_ his limbs being pinned down by Flowey as Oliva violates him with a rock.

“I, ah.” It’s a helpless, weak feeling that fills him and Sans wishes he could have said something to tell Jerry off. Something cutting and witty, but Sans’s tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth and he finds his words failing him.

“You’re a skeleton right? You can conjure both parts? Did you let her fuck you?” those horrible, emotionless eyes pass over Sans, assessing in a way that makes Sans cringe, makes him feel filthy, “How fucking tight are you Sans, that Olivia fucked you?” 

Fear chews at him and he hopes that no one can hear his bones rattling under his sweater. It shouldn’t matter, it shouldn’t. It’s _Jerry for_ fuck sakes, but Sans _can’t,_ and five months of therapy haven’t done nearly enough to prepare him for this moment. He always thought he would be, but he’s not and it’s like being violated all over again.

The Judge boils in his bones, but it can’t get past Sans’s fear.

He’s running on pure anxiety and instinct when his body manages to pull together the magic he needs to tare open a whole in the space time continuum and sides steps into a short cut. He doesn’t say a thing to Jerry as he slips into the short cut, he just needs to get _away_.

Sans lands away from the heat of the bar and crumbles to the cold tiles of one of the bathrooms in the mage compound. His hands are fumbling and quick as he shoves the toilet seat up and manages to get his head in the bowl before he purges the cold, spent magic that his body had been trying to incorporate into his body.

He can’t stop his hands from shaking, and he can’t keep the magic down as spoiled magic pushes past his teeth and drips from his sockets. He grips the toilet bowl tightly, and he wishes, desperately, that Lilith was home.

But she was far away, far, far from home saving someone else who needed her.

It didn’t stop Sans from calling out for her softly from the toilet bowl, and it doesn’t stop the tears that well helplessly at his sockets. 

He’d never admit that while he travelled through the void, as he closed one door and before he opened the door to their bathroom, he slowed and called for Gaster.

If he couldn’t have his mate, he’d wanted his dad and Gaster made it a habit of showing up when they needed him the most, when they were most desperate. Right now, Sans needed his dad, and hoped against hope that he could find him in the void.

The void continued to be its blank, silent self and his father wasn’t there when he fell through into the bathroom.

It was only when Sans managed to stop vomiting and flushed the toilet, did he managed to stumble to the room he shared with Lilith. His soul ached, dark and bruised, and his bones rattled so hard it felt like his teeth were shaking in his skull.

He stripped off his clothing, only now realizing everything he was wearing was soaked through in cold sweat; he was panting, gasping in the cool air of his bedroom as he retreated into the cool sheets of his bed.

Gripping tightly to Lilith’s pillow, Sans buries his face into the soft material, breathing her scent in deeply. It brought a small measure of comfort, and his sluggish mind struggled to recall the breathing exercises his therapist had taught him.

Breath in for four, hold for seven and out for eight. Slow and steady, over and over, until Sans couldn’t feel the tears on his face or the ache in his soul.

Quite and alone in his room, Sans fought to keep a steady hold over himself even as his soul roiled and shut down.

His last thought, before slipping into an uneasy sleep, was he wished Lilith was home before he fell into inky darkness. 


	4. Confrontation with the Healer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lola has a conversation with Jerry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Lovlies! 
> 
> Well, I will be honest, this chapter fought me hard so I hope you like. New warnings here are broken bones, AU/canon typical violence. I have updated the tags to reflect this. 
> 
> Let me know what you think of this chapter, comments help motivate me to keep writing, haha. 
> 
> Come drop me a line on twitter @Flamesacid, and we can talk undertale or whatever. :)

There was something wrong with Sans, that much Lola _knew_.

He’d been quiet for three, some-odd days; withdrawn and shut down, emotionally distant from the others, so much so that it was noticeable. So much so that Papyrus had nearly broken down into tears when he asked what was wrong, but Sans hadn’t budged. It was so bad that Papyrus nearly cancelled his trip out to speak with the Mer, Ryder supporting the decision and ready to hunker down to back his bonefriend.

That seemed to stir _something_ within Sans, and he refused to allow that to happen without a fight, booking more appointments to see Dr. Tracy to pacify Papyrus’s upset. It seemed to be helping at least, and Sans seemed to be working through whatever was hurting him, and it was enough for Papyrus to go to the coast with Ryder, Alphys and Undyne.

There was something hurting Sans, but Lola had no idea _what_ it was that was hurting him or even how to approach him to find out.

Now it was the weekend, Frisk was staying over at Toriel’s having a sleep over with Monster Kid, Fuku and Asriel. Felix had a date, but if Lola was honest with herself, she was certain his date was a cover for Felix so that he could troll the seedy under belly of Ebott. He was looking for threats, and had been ever since Christmas, and was more then happy to use his body as bait to search for said threats.

He didn’t talk about what he did or did not find, not with her at least and if he had bodies to hide, it was something he would take care of himself.

Shouldering her way through the heavy door, Lola huffed a sigh and struggled with the bags in her arms; she wasn’t a battle mage and didn’t have their physical strength, and the grocery bags were heavy. A small tray of sushi was tucked under one arm as she struggled to not drop dinner for her and Sans; Lola had no interests in cooking tonight and thought it would be a neat treat, a pick-me up for Sans.

With everyone else gone, it was just the two of them, and Lola had been hopeful that maybe she could cheer Sans up a little bit. She wanted him to be okay, they were friends at the very least and he’s her sister’s mate.

She didn’t want Lilith to come home after a hard mission to finding Sans hurting and bleeding.

More to it, she wanted Sans to be okay.

Huffing a little, Lola kicked the front door closed, the locks activating on their own behind her with the protective spells that Sloan had layered heavily on the front door before she made her way to the kitchen.

“Sans, it’s me!” she called out to the dark, empty house, but wasn’t surprised when he doesn’t call back to her, “I’ve got supper!”

Suppressing a sigh, Lola manages to struggle her way to the kitchen, bags in hand and sushi tucked under her arm, not really expecting much from Sans quite yet. She startles when she finds him sitting alone in the dark, silent kitchen, hands clenched tightly on the wood top, skull bowed and sockets empty, face devoid of emotion.

Something like unease churns in Lola’s gut, but she manages to press a smile at him, her voice soft and sweet to put him at ease, “Hey Sans. I got dinner.” And she smiles brightly at him, lifting the platter of sushi, “Have you had sushi yet?”

He doesn’t lift his face from the table, just quietly shakes his head no, his face cold and devoid of emotion, “Lols, when will Lilith be home?”

His voice doesn’t betray him, but Lola frowns a little as she places the platter on the stove top and starts to quietly put away groceries, “I dunno Sans.” She said gently, “they’re deep in the forest looking for the hunter, they’re out of cell phone range.” And Lola regrets that. She would have called Lilith home so she could be here with Sans, would give him that little bit of comfort if she could, would have taken Lilith’s place in the hunt in a heartbeat. She’d have done it even if it made her uncomfortable, if it meant Lilith could have come home early, “But when they did call, it sounded like they would be coming home soon.”

It’s a weak attempt at comfort, and Lola feels her heart squeeze in sympathy when his face crumples briefly in hurt and grief before he manages to get his expression under control and his mask back in place. It’s as fragile as he is, and he accidently let her see the depth of his hurt.

Lola’s kindness soul pulsed with the need to care for Sans, one of her own, her Den mate. Felix liked to joke that she was the mom friend, but it really wasn’t far from the truth.

“Oh.” It’s so dejected, so small, it has Lola frowning.

She clears her throat as she finishes putting away the groceries and bringing the platter of sushi to the table. Sitting with him, Lola quietly slides a pair of chop sticks over to him with a gentle smile. Sans may not be okay with talking with her, but she’d do what she could to take care of him.

She could make sure he was well fed and kept safe until Lilith came home, and he could talk with her about what ever was hurting him. Until then, she’d do what she could, “Sans, would you like me to show you how to use chop sticks?”

Her voice is soft, and slowly Sans lifts his sockets to her gentle, friendly face. He gives her an almost smile, his expression softening a little, but it’s still sad and hurt when he quietly says, “Okay.”

With a small frown, Lola does, and Sans catches on quick enough with little correction. Too bad the sushi was terrible, and that’ll show her for trying some place new without checking the reviews. Most of it ends up in the void, the fish a little off, and Lola apologises, promising to bring some good stuff home next time.

“Well.” Lola said scratching the back of her neck, her face going red with embarrassment, “What about pizza?”

Sans shrugs, looking dower and hurt, and Lola is so uncertain. Had this been any of her Den mates, her brothers or sisters, she would know exactly how to make them feel better. She’d know how to comfort him, how to ease his pain.

She would know which food would make him feel better, which movies he liked to watch and how to make him feel better. Lola takes a breath and squares her shoulders; once upon a time she didn’t know the others like she knows them now. That level of intimacy, that feeling of family took time and once she knew them like she knows Sans.

Sans is her Den mate, and he needs her.

Wracking her brains, pours through the memories that had been shared though Lilith, and they seemed fuzzy having been passed onto her. It gives her a thought, and she gives Sans a smile, asking innocently, “What about Grillby’s?”

Lola’s stomach does that horrible churning when Sans’s face crumples and his body nearly caves in as he curls into a ball at their kitchen table.

“No.” his voice is muffled and low, watery as it warbled, “I don’t want Grillby’s.”

Lola froze as Sans began to tremble hard enough for his bones to rattle, and he wrapped his arms around himself. His breathing changed, coming in hard, shallow little pants as Sans shivered and Lola felt so out of her depth. So far under the water, she froze for a moment longer before she pushed herself out of her chair, it scrapped across the linoleum so she could take a knee next to Sans.

Her hands hooved over him for a moment, uncertain if a touch would be welcome, but when that first broken sob rattled wetly out of Sans’s chest, Lola found her nerve. Her hand lay softly on Sans’s elbow, making him jerk and sob harder.

“Sans.” Lola’s voice is steady and slow, “Sans it’s okay. You’re safe, I’m here. Lilith will be home soon, but I’m here.”

Pain blooms from his chest, and for a long moment Sans can’t breathe, he can’t hear, can barely see through his tears and pain. There’s a gentle pressure on his elbow, firm and real, and Sans tries to focus on that. Focus on Lola’s soft, sweet voice telling him that he’s safe.

Sans believes her, he does. This is his home and Lola is one of his people, and when she asks him softly if he’d like to be held, Sans isn’t capable of telling her no. Wetly, he nods and when Lola opens her arms to him, Sans goes willingly, nearly clinging to her hard as he weeps.

Lola rocks him, soothing him as best she can, reminding him of his breathing exercises as she held him; on the cold linoleum floor of their kitchen, weeping brokenly into Lola, Sans tells her the truth. His words are fractured, sometimes he loses them, and he sounds like he swallowed gravel, but Sans tells her the truth.

It’s like a damn that’s been broken, and the words just wont stop. Sans tells her the truth, and Lola learns who Jerry is and what he’s done.

Sans tells her the truth, and Lola feels something deep inside break.

Soft, little, healer Lola with the kindness soul; the soft little shield maiden whose LV was seventeen, the lowest of their Den, and whose vice is _hatred_ feels the dark box that hold all her blood-soaked Level of Violence crack.

She may not be a battle mage, but Lola sure as fuck was raised by one. She held Sans softly, her sweet, kind voice never changed as she comforted him. Her grip never tightened as she held him painfully soft, even as her eyes flooded black and violence filled her heart. 

She never once harmed Sans, nor raised her voice to him, quietly holding him gently as he vented all his pain, all his anguish. Lola remembers the memory of when Lilith found him, she knows what happened, and she doesn’t need the soul trait to feel Sans’s hurt over those careless words.

Lola holds him, sweet and gentle with the kindness of her soul, even as her LV shakes off its careful hold. It’s what Lilith would have done, and it’s what she will do as well before she goes to have a very short conversation with Jerry.

-

The bar is hot when Lola pushes the door open with a frown, and it is decidedly not the kind of place she would pick to hang out on a Saturday night. There are too many bodies pressed together in too tight a space, making it seem smaller with how many people are packed into the bar.

They’re already at their maximum capacity, and the bouncer should have stopped her from coming in. He doesn’t dare try, not with her gentle, sweet smile and eyes pitch black like that of a demon’s. It’s unnerving, frightening, to see those gentle orbs wall to wall black with hatred that not even the people waiting in line raise a complaint.

It doesn’t matter, she isn’t going to be staying long. 

The moment Lola comes into the bar, the atmosphere changes; her presents alone cools the air, her magic crackling around her, a shield taking form around her right hand. It’s small, and hardly noticeable, but she doesn’t need it to be noticed.

The crowd parts before her, patrons take one look at her eyes and their happy expression falls to shock and horror before they plaster themselves against the walls. It’s not often that Lola lets her vice off its chain, even in the war she wasn’t known as a vicious battle mage or spell caster. She was the healer, the shield maiden, she kept the Den and their allies safe. She gave them some place to come home too.

Those rare times when Lola did snap, when her careful control over her LV slipped it’s lead like a vicious dog, was what cemented her firmly as _Pandora_ in their Den. The keeper of all things evil, cruel things that she kept inside.

Once in a while, Pandora opened her box. 

Lola strode up to the bar with sure, confident steps of a high LV mage, where she nearly instantly spotted the back of Jerry’s ugly head, and she grit her teeth. Unspeakable hatred rode her hard, and her hands balled into firsts.

The crowd parted as she passed like a Fury through the bar, passing Felix on his not date; she ignored him as he called her name, ignored her fierce battle mage brother as his face pulled into shock at her eyes. He called her name again, quickly fighting his way through the crowd to catch up with her, for once being the one that people weren’t afraid of, an odd feeling in of itself. He was caught up in the crowd, shoving his way through hard, trying to catch his sister.

Lola ignored him, a new experience for both of them as she focused on Jerry with laser focus and her soul pulse with fury as her vice fed into her magic.

Felix tried to shove his way through the crowd, barely catching up to her as Lola reached the bar.

Lola pulled out the seat next to Jerry, the large wolf monster turned to her with wide, angry eyes, mouth parting in a snarl before he saw her wall to wall black eyes and unnerving gentle smile. The wolf paused, as Lola’s smile widened, “Hi, you’re in my seat.”

The snarl falls from the wolfs mouth, and he squirms with discomfort. Dark eyes glance around the bar before it settles on her too big a smile that showed too many teeth, “Uhh. Yeah. Sure, here.” The wolf stood and slid around Lola’s petit form, and Lola slipped into his seat with the ease of someone whose been on the battlefield.

Felix frowned at his sister, shifting nervously on the balls of his feet as gold eyes take in their surroundings, looking for the threat that was right in front of them, “Heya Lols. What’cha up to?”

Lola promptly ignores her brother, turning the unnerving, beaming smile to Jerry, “Hey, your Jerry right?”

Slowly, Jerry turned towards the mage that said his name, dry, flaking lips pulling into a concerned frown, “Uhhh yeah. Who are you?”

“Lola.” The healer said happily in a perky, cherrful voice, dark eyes glancing to the bar top where Jerry had his boney hands, “I’m a mage. This is my territory.”

Jerry’s doll like eyes glance at Lola, giving her a nervous up and down, “Right.” He glanced around, suddenly taking notice that the bar had fallen silent and everyone was watching them, “What are. What are you doing? Why are you smiling like that, it’s creepy.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” Lola said cheerfully, her smile growing wider, becoming sharp enough to cut, showing more teeth, “Just like I’m aware of what you said to Sans.”

Jerry frowned, and behind them Felix went stiff, “Wait.” His eyes narrowed and his eyes brightened with anger, “What did he say to Sans?” Felix was protective, and his hand balled into angry fists.

Lola ignored her brother, “You know, if Lilith were here, she’d kill you for what you said.”

“Hey now!” Jerry said suddenly, his voice pitchy with panic, “I didn’t hurt him.”

“Ohhh you didn’t, did you?” Lola said in her off putting, cheerful voice, “I don’t give a shit what you think.”

“I just told him the truth.” Jerry almost sounds desperate, and it makes Lola’s smile go sharper and Felix freezes behind them.

“What truth?” Felix asked slowly.

Jerry’s words are quick and anxious, searching for an ally in the wrong corner, “Just that I know the truth!”

“What truth?” Felix asks again slowly, and Lola holds up her hand as if to still her brother from attacking. 

“That he wasn’t raped.” Fear is suddenly dawning on Jerry, and he looks desperately to Felix for help, cringing back at the fury that is beginning to build on the battle mage’s face.

Felix’s eyes flood black with rage and the blood curdling need for _vengeance_ , “What did you say?” he hisses, taking a step forward towards Jerry.

Lola’s hand is still held up delicately between them, stopping her brother from ripping Jerry’s arms off, her smile just as sharp, just as cruel. She refuses to look around the room at the rest of the bar to see if any of them agree with Jerry.

She won’t be able to stop Felix from turning this place into a blood bath if they do, so she focuses on Jerry, “Lilith would have killed you if she was home. You should thank fate that it’s me and not her. She would have killed you, but I know better than that. I know that sometimes, death is a luxury.”

Felix growled behind Lola, and Jerry looks nervously between the two mages as Lola continues, “Battle mages see the world as either a threat or non-threat. Simple as that. They don’t have time to make examples of people, there is only one way to deal with a threat and that is to eliminate it.”

“Fucking right we will.” Felix hisses, but doesn’t interfere with whatever his sister is doing. His hands ball into fists, and he shifts back and forth on his feet like a pacing hunting dog.

Jerry shifts, licking his lips, “I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“And it’s horrible that you think that.” Lola says, and she almost sounds sincere, “Now. Battle mages, they remove all threats as quickly and efficiently as they can. Usually with a lot of murder, and blood, and getting rid of bodies. It’s a pain, but it’s how they were raised, what they were taught. Remove a threat and don’t let it continue to _be_ a threat. They can’t help themselves.” Felix give her a sideways glance with a frown, but doesn’t disagree as Lola continues, “Now, spell casters. They’re the ones who make examples of people, hurt a few to dissuade many more. Shield maidens, we’re the same. We won’t kill you, but you sure as fuck will remember us.”

Jerry frowned, and shifted nervously on the bar stool, “I didn’t hurt anyone.” His voice is small and afraid, and it brings Lola no joy to hear it. She doesn’t loose her toothy grin, her too sharp a smile.

“You hurt Sans.” Lola’s head shook no, her long dark hair moving along with her head movement, “You hurt one of my people, and I’m not okay with you hurting one of my Den mates. Now, I may not have the magical strength of a battle mage. I don’t have magic that will make me physically stronger and faster. Lilith and Felix could break bones without breaking a sweat, and not just the little ones. But like, the big bones. I don’t have that power in me like them, but I don’t need it.”

The hand with the shield suddenly strikes out, the edge of the shield slamming down into Jerry’s wrist, crushing the bones under the greasy skin, shattering his wrist with ease and cracking the bar top. Jerry screamed and tried to pull away, but Lola snatches his broken wrists and holds on. She squeezes his writs and feels the bone shift under her grip, “I don’t need physical strength when I have blunt force trauma.”

Jerry was still screaming, trying desperately to pull away as Felix grinned behind them, “Now. To heal bones, Jerry? Jerry, I need you to listen here.” Lola said firmly, as if she was scolding him, giving his wrist a sharp shake, “Jerry I don’t think your listening, and this is important.” Her hand began to glow soft green, and her grin went sharper, “Now Jerry, healing magic is all about intent. You need to _want_ to heal. It’s got to come from the heart, your very soul. It’s got to come from the place magic comes from, and so does if you want to heal _wrong_.”

The bruising on the skin began to fade, and the bones in Jerry’s wrists began to grind back together, but wrong. Wide, doll like eyes shone with horror as Jerry’s wrists healed back very, very wrong, crippled and useless.

Behind them, Felix laughed as Lola’s face remained gentle, “Now, let me be hones here Jerry. If you ever come near Sans again, I’ll cripple you. I’ll do this to your spine. Do you understand.”

She let go of Jerry’s ruined wrist, and he stared horrified as he could barely move the joint, heavy tears running down his face, snot heavy at his nostrils, as he nodded.

Lola grinned, “Great. Thanks Jerry, good talk.” Pushing herself up, Lola moved with grace from the stool, flicking her hair over her shoulder and everyone took a step away from her, “Grillby, let us know what it will cost to fix the bar top. I will make sure it’s paid for.”

The bar tender nodded, and Lola once again strode for the door, shoulders back and head held high despite her short stature.

Felix laughed darkly, “See ya ‘round Jerry.” And followed his sister out of the bar and he ignored his date’s wide, frightened face.

Outside in the cold, winter night, Felix fell in step with Lola, taking deep, soothing breaths of cold air next to his sister. Its not often that Lola let’s her vice off its chain, and it’s always a thing to behold, “You good sis?” but that doesn’t mean that Lola can cope well with it.

Lola takes a breath and closes her eyes to centre herself before she responses, and when she does her eyes are bright green when she opens them, “Yeah. I’m fine, thanks Felix.” She pauses, brows furrowing, “I usually feel guilty when this happens.”

“And it’s not like you do this often, I can count on one hand the times you’ve let your vice off it’s leash.” Felix shrugged, “You’re not used to it.”

“And you shouldn’t be.” Lola shoots back, and Felix shrugs again, “But I don’t feel guilty this time. Not about this, not with how much he hurt Sans.”

Felix sighed, and nodded, “You did good Lols, I would have killed him.”

Lola nodded, unbothered, “I know, but they need to learn a lesson. They can’t hurt our Den mates and get away with it, and death was too easy for Jerry.”

Felix snorted and tossed his arm over Lola’s shoulders to pull her into a sideways hug, “It was. Thanks Lols,” he paused before asking, “how’s Sans?”

Lola sighed, “He’s hurting. It’ll be good when Lilith is home.”

Felix nodded and offered his sister a small grin, “Well then, lets go tuck him into the centre of our puppy pile until she does.”

Lola grinned, they’d take care of their bleeding Den mate and battle mages knew the best way to protect their people was to tuck them into the centre of the pile.

-

Sans was on the couch by the time the mages returned home, tucked under the blanket that Lola left him under, the third episode of Hells Kitchen just starting.

He’s just as withdrawn as when Lola left him, staring more blankly at the screen then actually watching the episode; Felix and Lola shared a nervous look before they broke apart to take opposite sides of the couch.

Felix drops near Sans’s head heavily and spreads out on the couch while Lola dropped into the couch by his feet. Her lighter weight making less of an impact, but she lifts Sans’s feet and settled them into her lap while Felix tucked his skull in his lap.

Sans gives a little watery sigh, pressing his face into Felix’s tight while he dropped a large hand onto the back of Sans’s skull. Lola’s hand settled on Sans’s hip and she shifted over to snuggle as much as she could into Felix, pressing Sans in between them.

They don’t talk, and Sans doesn’t ask what happened with Jerry. He doesn’t want to know, he’s still raw and hurting, and right now he’s between Lola and Felix, the next best thing to Lilith. They’ve got him tucked in the centre of their puppy pile, arguably the second safest place Sans could be and for now, it’ll have to do.


	5. Getting Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of Jerry's cruel words, Sans is having a hard time coping. Luckily, Lilith's come home to remind him how loved he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Fam, 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the next chapter! I actually really like how this one turned out. We come to the conclusion of hurting Sans and him trying to cope with what went down with Jerry. 
> 
> Let me know if you like this chapter, leave a comment or a kudo and drop me a line! Come say hello on twitter, we can talk fandom @AcidFlames! 
> 
> Enjoy!

The room was dark and quiet, with only the light coming from a bright off blue night light that Lilith had gotten him when he started to have nightmares, but that was how Sans wanted it. Some place tranquil, hoping to escape the helpless, hopeless feeling that settled uncomfortably in his chest. It didn’t help, and that hurt just behind his soul was stubbornly hanging on, pulsing with agony and giving Sans a bleak, dismal outlook that he just couldn’t shake.

He knew, _knew,_ he wasn’t weak. He wasn’t. He survived the underground, he faced a demon, stayed by Lilith’s side when _they_ took Chara head on, fucking fought zombies and Wrathe’s on the surface. He told jokes to some unseen eldritch horror and made it laugh, he wasn’t weak.

Yet, right now? Right now, Sans felt helpless. Vulnerable and weak, his confidence bent by Jerry’s cruel words and world view. The confrontation had shaken him right to his core, and Sans felt just as helpless as he had been all those months ago, when Olivia had violated him brutally.

Those vicious, _thoughtless_ words striping away all the hard work Sans had put into getting better, and it was almost like being assaulted all over again. It was that feeling of helplessness, of someone prying at something that he saw as private and did not give consent to speak about.

Fuck sakes, Jerry had asked how _tight_ he was. 

He felt weak, and he _hated_ how fragile he felt. Thought he should be over this by now, should be strong enough to brush off words like the one’s Jerry tossed at him so carelessly. Shouldn’t be _bothered_ when Jerry asked him how tight he was, or if he liked it when Olivia fucked him.

It shouldn’t, but it does.

It leaves the Judge within him bubble unhappily and his LV burn like acid in his soul despite how exposed he felt, like he was called out on something _he_ had done wrong. Like somehow, he was too blame for everything, like it was his fault that Oliva had raped him and not the other way around. 

Huffing a sigh, Sans rolled over in his bed, putting his back to the door so he could reach for Lilith’s pillow. He pulled it to his chest and buried his face into the soft fabric, and sighs sadly when her scent wasn’t as strong on the material. Not for the first time, he wishes Lilith was home, wanted to lean on her a little bit right now, wouldn’t mind having been held by her and soak up that comfort, support and love.

Sans pushed it away and clung to her pillow. She’d been gone for nearly two weeks, the last phone call was days ago, and Sans doubted that she was coming home tonight. Not with the heavy snow and blowing wind, not with the near blizzard outside.

He took a shaky breath, pressed his face into her pillow to soak up his tears and part of him was fucking grateful that Lilith wasn’t home. He didn’t want her to see him break like this, to be so busted up over something that _shouldn’t_ be hurting him so much.

Dr. Tracy has scheduled extra sessions with him for the next two weeks, trying to help him understand his pain, remind him that he wasn’t too blame. To help him understand that it’s okay to lean on his friends, that there was nothing to be ashamed of needing help sometimes.

Moping up the tears, Sans thought about maybe going to see if Felix or Lola would let him sleep in their beds with them, allow him to take comfort in having someone next to him while he tried to sleep. It was embarrassing, sure, but Den mates were like that; they thrived with each other through embarrassing shit.

Sans sighed, trying to settle to sleep, hoping that maybe tonight he’d actually get a full night’s sleep and not spend the entire night awake, full of dread and self hate. Fuck, maybe he _would_ go sleep with Felix or Lola, anything to just get a few hours of rest before his stupid body would wake him up at the ass crack of dawn.

His head throbbed sharply at his temples and behind his sockets, probably from not sleeping well since this whole bull shit started. The throbbing of his skull certainly didn’t help lull him to sleep, and the longer he stayed awake the worse _everything_ just got.

The lack of sleep, the feelings of utter helplessness and vulnerability all rolled into a delightful ball of self hatred. Unwanted thoughts kept popping up in his stupid, broken brains, telling him that he was worthless. That Lilith would leave him if she came home and found him this broken. That he was _broken_ , and useless and filled with nothing but despair.

Sans hated himself, more then anything else in the world; he blamed himself for what happened underground, blamed himself for allowing the assault to happen, blamed himself for being weak. Blamed himself for being so stupid, it was his fault he was caught. It was his fault he trusted Oliva.

He was catastrophizing, he knew. The brain weasels were lying, and he _knew_ he wasn’t stupid, he _knew_ that Lilith wouldn’t come home and realize he wasn’t worth it, he _knew_ it wasn’t his fault. It was just hard to remind himself that when his stupid brain turned against him like this.

Heaving a watery sigh, Sans shoved himself upright with a frown, clinging to Lilith’s pillow; he was going to go sleep with either Felix or Lola. Either of them would welcome him into their beds and provide him with what comfort he was looking for. The question was which one to go to, and Sans was debating on the merits of which mage would be a better cuddle buddy when the door to his room opened.

Turning towards the sound of the door clicking open, Sans felt his soul jump when the door opened and he gave a weak throaty little gasp as Lilith stepped into their room, and it feels like he hasn’t seen her in years.

Her eyes are dark ice chips, cold and focused with dark smudges under them. The bluish glow from the night light made her skin shine like pale silvery rays of the moon, her freckles seemed darker against her pale skin, and her expression was her blank neutral. Sans hadn’t been happier to see her, and it was like he had forgotten how muscular she was, how cold she could be before her expression softened when her mouth curled into a small smile.

She shifted, almost nervously, her pack slung heavily over a muscular shoulder before she swung her bag to the floor, “Hey love.” She told him softly, “it’s late, I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

Emotion welled in Sans’s chest, and he helpless shook his head no as a lump in his throat choked him. His words are rough and broken when he finally pushes the words passed the knot, “Evil mage.” 

Lilith’s face softened further, her head tilting and monotone voice going gentle, “Lola told me what happened. You okay?” she was asking to be polite, Sans knew that much.

He wasn’t in anyway okay, and his face crumpled when he shook his head no. Lilith gave a little sigh, crossing the room to climb onto the bed with him, wrapping herself around him and Sans leaned into her body willingly.

His arms went around her just as tightly as Lilith locked him to her chest, holding him tightly as she leaned back against the wall so that he was sprawled out over her muscular frame, practically straddling her, tucking his head into her shoulder; and this, this was what he was missing and craving. To be held by his girl, to be loved, and be safe. There was no place safer then tucked against Lilith, his fierce battle mage girlfriend.

He wept near silently against her, hands fisting into her soft shirt as his body trembled and his shoulders heaved under Lilith’s hands. Lilith rubbed his back in slow, even circles, “It’s okay love. I’ve got you. I love you.”

His words are small and muffled, watery and shaky, “I didn’t think you’d be home tonight. Weather’s shit.”

Lilith hummed, pressing her mouth to the side of his skull in a soft kiss, “Lola called me as soon as we were in cell phone range, told me what happened. Sloan used the last of her magic to get us home.”

Guilt washed over Sans, adding to his delightful cocktail of hurt helplessness, and he lifted his nervous face up to meet Lilith’s. She instantly reached up to smudge away the wetness at his sockets before she cupped his cheek, “She’s okay. Lola’s fed her and she’s gone to bed. You needed me home.”

Heaving a sigh, Sans sunk back down pressing his face into her collar bone, hands grasping at her almost desperately.

Guilt washed over Lilith, blaming herself for leaving him alone for so long when Sans was hurting. He was still recovering from what happened underground, he was still fragile and even if he didn’t like to admit it, he still needed support.

“I’m sorry love.” She said softly against his skull, feeling torn and uncertain. She hated that, uncertainty and hesitation got people killed in war, but it couldn’t be helped, “I didn’t want to be away for so long.” Their time underground _had_ affected how the other Dens saw them, it made other Dens, _enemy_ Dens see them as weak, as compromised. They saw them as soft, and they couldn’t afford to let that new reputation to stick.

Since coming back to the surface, the threats they received from hate groups, enemy Dens and extremist had doubled. Only part of them were from monster haters, they received just as many threats towards the Den, telling them how weak they had become and how enemies were coming for them.

A few had tried, and Lilith hadn’t told Sans just how many times a mage had sauntered into their territory thinking the Pandora Den had become weak since the end of the war, since opening their home and hearts to monsters. Between her and Felix, they sent each and everyone home in a box, and if Sans had checked her he’d see how her LV was starting to teeter toward twenty in a very dangerous way.

It would die down, she hoped. 

It made it hard to protect what really mattered, to protect Sans, when she had a territory to help keep safe, when there were so many others counting on her.

Sans shook his skull no against her shoulder, clinging on just as hard, “Don’t need to be sorry.” He muttered, voice watery, “I’m not selfish, I know you’re needed in the territory. I know people need you.” His soul squeezed painfully in his chest as he sighed weakly, “Did you find the goblins that were missing?”

Lilith sighed quietly, thinking how Sans needed her too, “Yeah. We found all four of them, but only one was brought home alive.” The gentleness in her voice is gone, replaced with that cold monotone, but even that Sans clings too. It means that Lilith was home and with him.

“Sorry.” He muttered weakly, any energy he had was quickly draining, and exhaustion filled him, “I know you wanted to find them alive.”

Sans settled against Lilith, and she reached up to brush the back of her fingers against his cheek before her hand settled along his jaw lie. Sans leaned into the soft touch, just as desperate to be touched as Lilith was too touch, “I should have been home.” Her voice has shifted back to being soft when she refocused on Sans, and what he needed.

Sans shook his head again, “Nah, you were the better option to go. Felix doesn’t do super away from home.” His voice is still watery, but he’s starting to calm, and he felt drained.

She could tell him again that she should have been home, but Sans was stubborn when he wanted to be and would _dig_ in when he was motivated enough; and not making her feel guilty was something he was willing to give a hundred and fifty percent. They’d just talk in circles all night, and Sans looked fucking tired, with his pale, chalky bones and dark smudges under his sockets. His eye-lights were dim and diffused, Jerry’s words digging deep into Sans’s subconscious.

He needed to go to sleep, and really sleep.

Lilith drew his skull off her shoulder, and he gave her a confused little look before she dipped her head down to press a soft kiss to Sans’s mouth. He sighed softly, sockets slipping shut as the magic that made up his skull moved against Lilith’s lips softly in a gentle kiss.

His soul pulsed in the first pleasure he felt in days, even as weak and diluted as it was, trying to fight against the pain and powerlessness he’d been fighting.

Lilith broke their kiss but didn’t remove her hand from his cheek as she pressed her forehead to his, “Lets try to sleep Sans.”

Huffing a sigh, Sans closed his sockets so he wouldn’t have to stare into her too soft eyes, “I can’t.” he whispered as they shared a breath, “I’ve been trying, but I can’t. My head’s been throbbing, I just can’t get to sleep.”

His voice breaks a little, and Lilith’s other hand cups his cheek to cradle his face in her hands. Her tongue peeks out to lick her lips, before her words are soft and unusually gentle, “So. Sloan has a sleeping draught. It’ll knock you out for several solid hours, even if your hurting.” They used it a lot in the war when battle mages were unfortunate enough to lack a healing trait and had to wait for a healer. 

The offer is there for Sans to take or refuse, but how could he say no at Lilith’s hopeful eyes and soft magic that hummed around them, “Okay.”

That was all Lilith needed, and with another quick kiss, she was up and to her pack. She dug through it quickly, coming back to the bed with a sickly neon green sleeping draught that bubbled in her hands like it was boiling.

“Okay love,” she said softly, carefully handing the oddly cold bottle with the potion bubbling away inside, “drink this, and you’ll crash hard.”

Sans swallowed, his dry throat clicking as he slowly taking the bottle, moping up the last of his lingering tears, “The whole thing?” his voice is small and verging onto fear of the unknown.

Lilith nods slowly, her voice soft as it is only with him, “I’ll be here the whole night.”

He glanced down at the bubbling, ice cold potion, and with a weak shrug uncaps it and shoots it back in a hard, deep gulp that nearly has him choking on the potion. It’s cold as it slides down his throat, making Sans’ shiver as pure, powerful magic fill his soul. Lilith’s eyes went wide as he handed the empty bottles back with a shrug, “I ah. Had a bad run.” He tells her weakly, nothing wanting to talk about that one bad run with alcohol. 

Lilith frowns at him, tucking the bottle onto the nightstand, before turning back to Sans as the potion starts to take effect, “You wanna talk about that bad run?”

Sans felt his head swim, his sockets going heavy, “Nah. Paps died. I killed your sister when she was a demon.” He felt his head swim, and he fell into Lilith heavily.

Her arms went around him warmly, guiding them down to the mattress, their bed, “I’m glad your home.” He muttered weakly into her shoulder, already sinking down hard, sockets going heavy. He didn’t bother to fight it.

“Me too.” Lilith whispered delicately to him; her hand soft on the back of his skull. She wants to tell him more, tell him she’s sorry for what happened to him, for how he suffered, that it wasn’t fair. That he didn’t deserve to suffer like he had.

She can’t say anything as Sans falls asleep, finally, for the first time in days. His sockets slip shut, his skull heavy, and when blissful darkness takes him, Sans doesn’t fight it.

Despite her own exhaustion, Lilith doesn’t sleep much. Instead she holds Sans tightly and watches over him.

-

When Sans finally floats back to consciousness, warm light is peeking trough the blinds of the window, birds are singing outside in the chilly winter air and Sans has no intention to fight his way out of the warm bubble he’s found himself in.

He still feels hurt, his soul bruised and aching, the crack pulsing painfully in the centre of his core, but he feels _better_. A full, uninterrupted night sleeping had done Sans some good, the throbbing pain behind his sockets finally dulled away to something bearable.

He had dreamed of snowballs and Halloween costumes; of fighting a hoard of zombies and sharing his soul in the soft sunlight in a green meadow. He dreamt of his life on the surface with his mate, with his family.

It softened the blow a little, took the edge off his hopelessness and he didn’t feel quiet as much as garbage as he had.

Shifting under the thick blanket, Sans felt his foot brush against a muscular calf and with a soft sigh he rolled over towards where he knew Lilith was stretched out in their bed. Reaching out blindly, patting at the empty space next to him until his hand slapped weakly against Lilith’s hip.

He heard her snort, felt her hand grab at the scruff of his shirt and drag him the rest of the way across their bed so that Sans could curl into Lilith’s side. His skull settled against her breast with a deep sigh; his arm went around her ribs, and he snuggled in.

“How you feeling?” Lilith asked, her own arm going around his shoulders and squeezing him tight.

Sans shrugged, sockets still shut, “Fine.” He muttered.

Lilith snorted, “You mean Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional?”

Sans pushed himself up, mocking gasp, “Fuck, it’s like you know me.”

It brings the curl of a small smile to her mouth, and she chucks his chin. He catches her hand so he can hold it in place to nuzzle. Lilith’s smile becomes a little more real, and she uses that hand to reel Sans in for a soft kiss, that has him parting his teeth and moaning softly.

The kiss is broken far too quickly, and like the night before, they share a breath, “Oh, I know you.” The confidence makes Sans grin, “How’s your head?”

He _knows_ what she means, she wants to know how he’s feeling, if that horrible headache has finally dissipated, but he just can’t help himself. The set up is just too perfect, and with a lackadaisical shrug tells her, “I’ve never had any complaints.”

Lilith draws back and blinks at him, dark eyes wide before the neutrality broke into an amused smirk and she laughs at his words, “Yeah, you’re getting better.”

Her laugh is rough, and loud, most would probably say ugly, but he’s never been so fucking happy to hear it. He’d been downtrodden since the whole bull shit with Jerry, and after a solid night of sleep, Sans starts to wonder what exactly Lola did that would sooth Lilith’s violent LV. She should be baying for blood, so whatever Lola had done must have been enough to sooth even Lilith’s high LV.

Maybe he’ll ask Lola, his interest in the outside world has finally perking.

The amusement falls from Lilith’s face, and she presses another quick kiss to his mouth, “Next time, I’m brining you with me. You’re a tough mother fucker, you could hunt with us.”

Sans snorts, waving off her gentle hold and shakes his head no, “I doubt it, I can’t do what you do.”

Lilith snorts and settles against the bed, “Sans. You’re a bit of a bad ass when you want to be.”

Sans feels heat crawl along his throat, working up towards his face, “I’m not really.” He scratches at the back of his neck, a little uncertain.

Lilith blinks at him before she tsks, “Who else defended the school from a pack of Wrathes?”

The blush crawls down his throat, and he quickly adverts his eye-lights, “Well. I guess I did.”

“Mhmm.” Lilith doesn’t look impressed, but rather amused, “Who else faced a demon? Fought side by side and kept _me_ alive?”

“Well, I guess.” Sans looks down and shrugs, and Lilith’s mouth twists into a grin even as embarrassment wells.

“Hmmm.” Lilith grins at him, “Who brought me fucking hot chocolate to a riot waiting to start? You did Sans.” She gives him another little shrug, “You’re a bad ass love. An actual bad ass.” Lilith frowns a little, more to herself then towards anything else, “And I know that. I should have brought you with me.”

Sans glances up, and it feels like his face is glowing azure, “Should be able to handle myself without you.”

Lilith catches his chin and lifts it up so he looks at her, “And you can.” She has so much confidence in him, she doesn’t doubt for one second that if he needed to, he’d tare any enemy apart to keep their Den, and himself, safe, “But there is no shame in leaning on your Den. Fuck knows I’ve had to. I’ve relied on Sloan, and Felix, and Lola and Ryder. I relied on you too keep my soul whole when Chara hit me with that fire ball. We can’t be strong all the time Sans, sometimes you’ve got to lean on your Den.”

She lifted his hand to press a kiss to his wrist, and he shakes his head at her, “You’re a dork.” He laughs a little, quickly redirecting the soft words that were softly directed at him that made his soul twist and swell at the praise; it was something he still wasn’t fully ready to hear and believe.

Lilith grinned, “I’m your favorite dork.”

“Nope, Papyrus is my favorite dork.” He grins up at her, and she mocks a gasp, giving him a gentle shove.

“Brat!” she laughed at him, her hands striking out to tickle at his ribs.

He laughed, weakly trying to wriggle away from her tickle attack, wheezing with rough laughter as she managed to pin him down with a smirk.

Pinned under heavier weight, Sans grinned up at his mate, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek like she’s delicate and sweet, “You’re still my second favorite dork.”

Lilith sighs at him, “I suppose in a fight with Papyrus, there’s no winning.” There’s no heat with her words, and the smirk took out any sting.

“Yeah well, my bro’s so cool, no competition.” Lilith laughs at him, and he pauses a little, “Yeah. It’ll be fun to come out hunting with you.” And Lilith lights up, battle mages and their weird little need to fight side by side with each other, to fight along side their mates. The idea of hunting with him would probably be something she would enjoy way too much, something that would excite Lilith as much as it would arouse. That thought made Sans’s mouth water a little, and the idea of going hunting along side them held a bit more appeal.

She nuzzles at his throat, “We’ll need to train with you a little more if you actually want to.”

Sans doesn’t hate the idea, and sighs softly at her gentle touch, soaking it up, “Mmm, sure. Why not.” He manages to sound board, trying to hide his interest, but Lilith can read between the lines. She knows that Sans is still afraid to want things, to wants to keep thing, afraid of a reset and loosing everything. She leans up to kiss him again, just as desperate to touch Sans as he was to be touched. Just as desperate to touch her.

When they break apart for air, Sans asks her softly, “Wanna go down and have breakfast with the Den? They’ll be pissed if we don’t show.”

Lilith grins at him, happy to see a little more of his personality coming, seeing Sans starting to feel better, “Yeah, that’d be awesome love.”

Sans wasn’t stupid enough to think he was okay, he was far from it, but he was feeling better, even just a little bit.

And honestly, it was at least a start.


	6. It Started with a Bang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans just wanted a quiet day at the winter market with Lilith and Felix. Really, that shouldn't be to much to ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovlies! 
> 
> Phew, this one took some TIME. This chapter hit just over 10k in words, and I really struggled with completing this one. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, especially the fight scene and the start. 
> 
> Please take a good look at the change of the tags, there will be some pretty graphic descriptions of violence and injury in this chapter. There is mention of the dead and corpses and the death of an OC. Please read with caution. 
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy and leave a comment!

The sun was bright and high despite the weather that was cold enough that Sans could see his breath in the air. Magic gathered at his nasal structure, making it run and him sniffly, and the cold bit at his exposed bones, as few of them as there were.

He didn’t care though, not today; he had a warm white and blue knitted cap that _Felix_ of all his Den mates made for him. Apparently, he had taken up knitting after the war for something to do with his hands and got pretty good at it. The wool of the hat was thick and warm, the fuzz soft against his skull and the stitches were tightly done, a sure sign of someone who had been doing this a while.

Felix had brought him the cap that morning with a grin, shoved it over his skull, and told him to get in the car loser, that they were going shopping.

Sans learned something new that morning about battle mages; after spending any more then a day apart, battle mages needed to reconnect and remind each other that they were alive and well. They needed to spend time together, and Sans was lucky to be able to come along.

He was still feeling a little fragile, a little uncertain after everything that happened with Jerry, but was starting to feel a little better about the events. Feeling well enough that when Felix declared they were going shopping, Sans hadn’t _wanted_ to say no.

Bundling up against the cold with the hat he had been gifted, gloves to help keep his digits warm and a warmer sweater, he’d been ready to join Felix, Lilith and Frisk out to the winter marketplace. He didn’t necessarily need the extra warmth, but he wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t like he ever had the chance to be this cozy-warm in Snowdin, with the scant bit of clothing that did fall into the underground.

Besides, it made Lilith feel better that he was bundled up and she would light up before leaning in to give him soft kisses, gripping at the front of his sweater.

Wandering up the isle of the winter market, white eye-lights are soft and amused as he looked over the items the sellers were trying to get them to purchase; thick winter gloves and hats, warm scarfs and sweaters all made from either sheep wool or lama’s.

There was a particularly brilliant crimson scarf that he was looking at for Lilith, the stiches weren’t as well done as Felix, but they weren’t bad. The wool had been dyed such a lovely color, that it drew the eye, and would pare nicely with Lilith’s magic.

There’s another by the same seller, a deeper ruby, that Sans is sure Papyrus would like and he’d frightened his brother so deeply before he’d gone with Ryder to the coast. Sans was looking for something to give to Paps to show that, hey, he’s okay. No need to worry. 

The drink is hot in his hand, the chocolate still steaming with warmth that sinks into his bones through his gloves; he holds his drink in one hand, the other wrapped around Frisk’s hand to keep her with him. It’s busy in the winter marketplace, and he just wants a nice, quiet day with his fam.

That’s all he wants, just one day and losing Frisk in a crowded marketplace would probably drive Lilith to a murderous panic that would drag Felix down with it.

The kid was too determined for her own good sometimes, and he wasn’t willing to let her hand go.

Just a head of them with drinks of their own, Lilith and Felix are browsing through another stall, looking at the smoked meats, spices and syrups; Felix would nudge his sister with a sharp elbow to Lilith’s ribs, which was returned with a cuff to the back of his head.

Sans grinned, feeling softer than he had in days, a little more stable emotionally at seeing the battle mages show their affection to each other. The not so gentle shoves, sharp jabs and bruising punches were pulled a little, and really just any excuse to touch. Sans knew that battle mages were affectionate with their own and needed to touch their Den mates.

Sans saw that when it was just he and Lilith, alone in their quiet room. She was desperate to touch him softly, happy to cup his face and kiss him gentle. Even with the Den, she held his hand tenderly, whispered sweet nothings against his skull, told him he was amazing and brilliant, and that she loved him. Sans soaked it all up, flourishing with that affection.

Even with the Den, the battle mages touched them, changing their style with each member of the Den and what they needed. Gentle with Lola, playful with Sloan, touchy-feely with Ryder, always hugs for Papyrus and lately with Alphys, light touches like soft nudges and shoulder pats. Undyne was like them, liked their affection a little rough, not so gentle punches and nudges, but it got the point across.

Sans loved it all, thrived on that affection they were both willing to dole out, loved watching the others light up when the battle mages turned that affection onto them. It was _fun_ to watch Lilith and Felix squabble among each other, playful and no heat to their words.

It reminded Sans how much he missed his brother and the others, and how _happy_ he was to have Lilith home. The pieces of their family had been missing were finally back in place, and Papyrus, Undyne and Ryder were due back later today. Knowing the missing parts of their family were returning home helped take the edge off Sans’s anxiety.

Things were starting to get back to normal, slowly. Being home did everyone some good, and even if Lilith was still working through her guilt at losing three of the four goblins, at not being here for Sans, she’s getting better. She knows that you can’t always save everyone, can’t be everywhere at once, but Lilith is always gives it her all.

Honestly, his girl is so freaking cool.

“Okay kiddo.” Sans says slowly, and Frisk looks up at him with a grin. Sans grins back down at her, beaming with pride for his favorite kid; she had been training so hard with Sloan to harness her powers. She could even turn back time enough to reverse the bite out of an apple without resetting the day. It drained copious amounts of magic to do it, made Frisk exhausted for a day to use her magic that way without a reset star, but she was getting better at it.

“What do you think of this one?” Frisk gives the scarfs a careful look, scrutinizing the color and the tightness of the stiches.

With a very serious look for someone who was looking at scarfs, Frisk shakes her head no vigorously. Sans frowns at her, squinting down at the nine-year-old who had saved them all. Brought Sans his love, and changed all their lives for the better, “Why not?”

He lets go of Frisk’s hand so she can sign up at him, slow and careful after putting her little Styrofoam cup onto the table of the booth, “ _It’s sloppy. Felix’ll do a better job.”_

It’s so matter of fact, Frisk nods determinedly as she retrieves her cup and takes Sans hand back with a smug look; it dawns on Sans that Frisk probably also thinks that he’s just as likely to disappear as she is. Which _is_ fair, Sans guesses.

He grins down at her, and give her little hand a squeeze, “Alright, alright. Come on, let’s go-“ where ever they were going to go next, Sans wasn’t sure.

The Judge _screamed_ at him that there was a threat. Sans froze the same time Lilith and Felix did, saw their shoulders stiffen as they scanned the area tense and angry at something, instinct riding them both hard while they sought out what ever was setting their instinct off. They’re back to back suddenly, hands curled into fists, hot drinks spilling out on the ground from where they were dropped, weapons shimmering just out of sight.

The air as filled with tension, with a growing violence and Sans pulled Frisk behind him. His eye-lights faded as magic gathered hotly in his soul, sparking at his fingers, just waiting, and for once he doesn’t feel the painful press of his cracked soul just under his ribs.

Frisk whimpered at Sans’s back, her tiny hands curling into his sweater, fisting hard into the fabric when the explosion tore though the winter market; Sans didn’t have time to gasp, he simply reacted and summoned a blaster that settled heavily over he and Frisk.

The battle mages were caught off guard as well, had no time to react or trace away but Sans didn’t have the time to be terrified for Lilith or Felix when the Gaster blaster settled over him. They barely had the time to throw their arms over their faces before they were caught up in the explosion that took them off their feet.

Fire and debris beat at the Gaster blaster, surrounding them as Sans turned and pulled Frisk to his chest, tucking her against his body in hopes to protect the little mage should the blaster give out. The noise is deafening, horrific like something from a nightmare. The Gaster blaster chips away with the fire and debris, but it holds strong, keeping he and Frisk safe.

Sans is panting hard when the explosion finally stopped, and the previously busy and loud marketplace was too quiet in the eery, post attack. White static filled his skull as his non-existent ears rang between the too loud noise of the explosion and the crippling silence in the after math, and Sans is terrified to release the hold on the Gaster blaster to see what’s become of Lilith and Felix.

He’s terrified that they, that _Lilith_ , was dead.

Swallowing hard, Sans gathers his fading courage, releasing the blaster and it shimmered out of existence, but he didn’t release his hold on his magic.

The marketplace was _gone._ The stalls that were near the explosion were flattened, burned away and scattered around the ground were the patrons of the marketplace. Sans’s hearing came back slowly, the white noise drowned out as the cries of the survivors filled his skull, a haunting noise that will give Sans nightmares for weeks to come.

Around them the dead lay still and bloodied and burnt. The survivors were trying to get up, people and fairy tale folk were screaming and running away and running to help. The sounds came back fast and hard as realization set in, that they had been caught in an explosion. They had been attacked.

Frisk whimpered, burying her face into Sans’s chest and her tears soaked his sweater and he held her tight. His dark, carefully blank sockets scanned the wrecked area for Lilith and Felix, and he frantically searched for his mate. It’s equal parts terror that fill him that he will find her a bloody mess and desperation to know what happened.

His soul roiled in anger and pain as he looked for her, his fury was building so hard he could taste it at the back of his tongue, like something acidic and cruel. He _needed_ to find his girl, she needed to be alive.

He spotted Felix first, flat on his back, the side of his face burned, blood is leaking from his ears, nose and mouth. Thick planks of wood sticking out sharp and bloody from his stomach; his chest blown open from being caught in the explosion as he lay in a pool of his own blood. From the horrifying wound in his chest, his caved in ribs and mangled organs, Sans can see his Justice soul pulsing in agony as green magic shimmers over his broken body. His healing trait desperate to put him back together. 

Felix isn’t moving, still and hurt, blood bubbling at his mouth as his body gasps for breath. Lilith is not far from where her brother’s broken body had been thrown, some how awake as blood pours from her mouth and ears. Her nose is broken and bleeding, dark black and yellow bruising at both her eyes, and her jaw is broken.

Already green healing magic is tugging her jaw back to where it should be, and Sans feels his stomach twist at the sight of it. She’s managed to get to her hands and knees, trying to get up with both her legs broken, with bones taring through her pants and her left arm dangling uselessly at her side. Some how she managed to not to be impaled by flying debris, but Sans can see that she’s hurting; besides her broken legs and arm, she at least has broken ribs but who knows what sort of organ damage she has from being caught in the explosion.

Sans is frozen, horrified and afraid, but he quickly unsticks himself form his horror and picks Frisk up. His face goes cold, and he’s determined to get to his mate and his brother, to keep them safe until their healing trait can pull them back together.

He doesn’t make it to Lilith.

The mage that traces among the debris is filled with power and smugness that sets Sans’s teeth on edge, and he grips at Frisk tighter. She’s pale with dark, cruel eyes and black hair that has been pulled back into a tight bun, and her smirk is sharp enough to cut.

Lilith tilts her head up to give the mage a glower. She tries to speak, but only gurgling blood comes out and she glares harder. The mage’s grin widens, her too white, too perfect teeth grin down at Lilith.

“Hello Dear Death.” She says softly, like she’s trying to mimic Sloan’s voice but can’t quite hit that beautiful, whimsical tone.

Those dark eyes suddenly fill with magic, filled with azure power of a patience soul and her grin was vicious. Those cruel eyes flick over Lilith’s head to Felix, whose broken body is still trying to pull itself back together, and Sans takes another step towards Felix.

Sans feels something shift inside, something angry and protective as the mage glowers at Felix, and he realizes that it’s _him_ that she’s after. Glancing around, Sans feels that anger grow into fury; not just at what she had done to Lilith and Felix, but she hurt, _killed,_ so many who where in the marketplace.

Lilith’s jaw finally finishes shifting back into place and she spits a clot of blood at the polished black shoe of the mage who had attacked them, “Go fuck yourself Madelyn.”

Madelyn frowned, azure magic sparking at her fingers even as Lilith looks up and grins bitterly. That polished, blood spattered shoe slammed into Lilith’s face, causing her head to snap back painfully, blood bursting from her nose as Madelyn rebroke Lilith’s nose.

“Fuck you.” Madelyn hissed, angry and bitter, and Sans felt that fury build into something blinding and hot in his soul. Frisk is the only thing grounding him, her light weight in his arms keeping him from attacking immediately.

Lilith laughed, but it wasn’t her usual laughter. It was low and bitter, something vicious and angry, “Man, no wonder Felix dumped your ass. You’re a cunt.”

Fury thundered over Madelyn’s face, and she kicked Lilith in the head, dropping her to the ground and back into her own blood.

“I will not be _humiliated_ by being dumped by _fucking_ Felix!” she hissed, “Your brother’s a fucking whore, and I will not allow him to tarnish my reputation!”

Wrath built in his soul at those words, and Sans can feel his hands shake. How dare she? How fucking _dare_ she? She hurt people, _killed_ people because she was angry that Felix dumped her?

Lilith is pushing herself back up, lifting her bruised and broken face to grin bitterly up at Madelyn, unafraid and angry. A fresh gush of blood pooled from her mouth and nose, her tongue darted out to lick away the coppery liquid that smeared across her face, “I won’t let you fucking touch him.” 

Madelyn smirked down at his mate, summoning a sword just like Lilith would have and Sans can’t bring himself to care that she’s a battle mage like his own perfect, fierce mate. Sans tenses as Madelyn lifts that sword above her head, ready to put it through Lilith’s throat; Lilith has summoned her own weapon, but Sans has no idea how she plans to fight with so many broken bones. He doesn’t doubt that she has in the past, has only heard a fraction of the stories of the mage’s brutal war but that doesn’t mean that he wants to see Lilith broken with bones sticking out from her legs and through her pants as she fucking _fought_.

Sans lifts his hand, magic blurting at his fingers, an attack summoned in the form of blue bones, when time suddenly slows down and _stops._

For the briefest of moments, Sans doesn’t understand what’s happening and the confusion drowns out his growing fury as time rewinds. He watches in complete confusion as Madelyn stomped on Lilith’s face, but in reverse and the damage fading away as the attack undid itself. 

Sans can feel his feet moving on their own accord, forcing him to walk backwards, and he’s desperate to keep his eye-lights on Lilith but he looks to Frisk in his arms with awe. This rewind of time takes a lot of concentration and magic, and her little body glows crimson with the power of her determination. It clicks in Sans’s skull what’s happening, fighting past the horror of seeing his mate broken and bleeding on the ground as he understands.

Time rewinding is different then when Frisk resets time, it’s more jarring but that may be due to the fact he’s along for the ride this time; every morning the kid would create a save star, just in case, but this was different. This was more powerful, something Frisk had been working with and had only managed to rewind time for an apple with a bite in it.

She’s determined to save these people and her sister. She’s determined to save Felix, her slightly crazy, fun loving, cutthroat Den mate. Her big brother.

Sweat dripped down Frisk’s face, she grit her teeth, clutched at Sans’s sweater and squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could in focus, pushing time _back_ and Sans knows that she’s putting everything she’s got into rewinding time. She won’t be able to do this a second time, she’s putting everything into rewinding time like this, putting every drop of magic into this spell to save Lilith and Felix.

Sans refocuses, lets that fury keep him in the here and now as he watches Madelyn trace away the explosion happen in reverse; he watches carefully pinpointing the stall that the explosion originated from, sees the debris from the bomb as it happens in reverse. The Gaster blaster resettles over he and Frisk, but he can still see the fire, the shrapnel being pulled out of bodies, and life breathing back into the victims.

Frisk pushes back harder, and Sans is still walking backward, an odd sensation to be the only other one who is aware of the odd shift in time, and his body is reacting to the call of time until he is back in front of the stall with the crimson scarfs.

Around them the marketplace is back together and brimming with life, everyone who had been bloodied and dead were alive and well, no one knowing the horror that was about to happen. Frisk sighed and went limp in his arms, the push with her magic exhausting her and she passed out.

Sans’s soul swelled with agony, with fury and fear at what was about to happen, and sweet fucking relief to see Lilith whole and well with Felix. It nearly drove Sans to his knees, but he knows what’s about to happen, knows that Frisk has given him one chance to change the course of time. He can save the people here in the winter market, he can keep Lilith and Felix whole.

He doesn’t think about it, doesn’t even consider the possibility of running, he shortcutted right to Lilith, where she’s smiling and nudging Felix. They are unaware of what’s about to hit, and he grabs at her elbow with the same desperation that he clung to Frisk with.

Lilith turned when he gripped at her elbow, and it takes everything in him not to yank her down to his level just so he can hold her. Dark eyes turn to look at Sans, her mouth pulled into a small frown with confusion; Felix did the same, and had he not been holding Frisk, Sans would have clung to him just as tightly.

Lilith’s mouth opened to ask what was wrong, when he blurted out, “Madelyn is here, and she’s got a bomb set to go off.”

To give them credit, they didn’t panic, but being battle mages Sans suspected this wasn’t their first assassination attempt; Lilith had warned him that there maybe those who would try to take his life for being in love with her, it never _dawned_ on him that it might also apply to the others.

Lilith sighed deeply, crimson splashing through her eyes as magic filled her, her voice soft monotone when she muttered, “Fuck.” 

Felix blinked at him, his reaction about the same as his sister, “Huh.” Gold burns through his eyes that matches Lilith’s crimson, “Well, I always assumed one of my ex’s would try to kill me.” He gives Sans a crooked grin, sharp and cruel, “Never thought it would be Madelyn. Thought she was too fucking posh to get her hands dirty.”

“Felix!” Lilith hissed, fury growing in her eyes that only softened when she looked at Sans, “Love, where’s the bomb?” Lilith isn’t stupid, she knows her baby sister is a time mage, and knows that when Sans comes to her with a warning about something he shouldn’t know, she, _they_ , probably died. Something horrible happened, she doesn’t know what, but it was bad enough that Frisk exhausted herself to put them back here. 

She knows that Sans probably saw her die, and she would talk to him later about it.

Right now, she’s focused on the threat at hand with laser intensity, “Sans take Frisk home. Get her to the infirmary and get Lola. Felix, find that bitch.”

Felix grinned at her, lazy and smug, smoothing his Mohawk with a rough hand, “Sure sis. Have fun with the bomb.” He sing songs, puffing himself up, “I’ll get her to come find me.” He waggled his brows at her, his smile sleezy, “She never could resist my body.”

“She’s trying to kill you.” Sans dead pans, his irritation growing.

Felix shrugs, his grin still sharp, “She’s a kinky minx.”

Lilith groaned, shoving her brother when she snapped, “Find her.” She glances to Frisk, before focusing on Sans, “Where is it?” Sans peels his fingers away from her coat, grating at the fact that he took his hand away from her body, terror that if he let her go she would die. He pointed to the booth, and Lilith nodded firmly.

“Sans, take Frisk home.” Her eyes deepened to the color of blood before she shifted, her body squaring up as she prepared to fight, and Sans hated watching her wade into a battle that had yet to start, Felix at her heels, without him.

Sans shifted Frisk in his arms, holding her tightly as fury grew in his soul, hating that he wasn’t going with her. That he wasn’t by her side irritated him. He was the Judge, and it rumbled unhappily in his bones.

He hated leaving her, but he side stepped into a shortcut to take Frisk home.

Sans isn’t gone long; he doesn’t quite get Frisk to the infirmary, but he gets to her Lola which is as good as the infirmary. Hell, it was probably better, and he’s back in the marketplace with a quick hop, skip and a jump, promptly ignoring Lola’s voice calling to him to wait.

The marketplace was quiet again, just as eery after the explosion had ripped it apart, only nothing has been destroyed, and he’s shocked with how quickly it’s been cleared out. In the distance, Sans can already hear the sirens of police cars and Felix is leaning against the booth that concealed the explosive, pressing his shoulder into the plank of wood. He’s using a sharp knife to clean his nails, and Sans can’t help but roll his eye-lights. He should be trying to find Madelyn, and he can’t help but feel his irritation rankle.

He had watched both he and Lilith caught in an explosion, left bleeding and hurt, dying on the pavement. Sans _knew_ that Felix could take things seriously, but that was rare, and things had to be dire enough for him to dig that deep.

He was just being a shmuck not taking this seriously. 

The mage glanced up and grinned, he’s peeled his winter coat off, a cigarette caught between his teeth and he looks bored as molten gold eyes scan the empty, quiet area. Still smirking, Felix dismisses the blade and pushes himself off the wall of the booth.

Felix doesn’t so much as walk over to Sans as he saunters, his hips roll in his dark blue jeans and the grey cable knitted sweater is tight at his arms, “The hell you doing back?” he askes, flicking away his smoke.

Sans glances behind him, can see Lilith’s upper body behind the table of the booth, can see her bright magic glowing at her feet but the table is obscuring his vision of the bomb.

Sans dances out of Felix’s way, side stepping the battle mage, focused on Lilith, “Came back to help.” He shoots back, his eye lights blinking out into eery inky black, “Where the hell is everyone?”

Felix smirks down at him, lips pulled into a twisted grin that showed too many teeth, “Opened a portal to the nether. People tend to haul ass when nightmares are crawling out of the street.”

Sans sighs deeply at Felix, he’s been spending a lot of time with Lilith to pick up that habit, and Felix just grins at him. “Have you found Madelyn?” Sans doesn’t mean to be so snappish, but he’s trying not to panic and that horrible churning in his cracked soul isn’t helping.

Felix shrugs, its easy and nonchalant like he doesn’t care that someone’s trying to kill him, “Nah. She’ll show up eventually. I’ll deal with her.” He fell in step with Sans.

Sans shakes his head as they came up to the booth that Lilith was inside; he pulled himself up onto the table, frowning at Lilith as she folded layer after layer of crimson magic over the bomb, bringing her usually deadly drills up from the earth to fold flat around the explosive device in a ball of magic. Her eyes were focused on the task at hand, cocooning the bomb in magic. 

Sans sighed again, his girl has it under control and when the bomb went off, her magic would keep it contained. Felix leaned back against the side of the small wooden booth, taking up his previous post and _yawned_ , “See? Lili’s got it. It’s easy.”

“This isn’t exactly easy.” Lilith snaps coldly as she adds another layer of magic around the already glowing, growing ball, and Sans’s shoulders sag with relief.

Lilith’s okay. They’re gonna live. 

Felix shrugs again, unhurried and unworried, “You’ve got a deep well.” His grin goes sharp, “Get to digging girly.”

“Suck my dick.” Lilith says to him, her voice was smooth and unemotional, there’s no heat to her words as she focuses.

Felix laughs and Sans finally _relaxes,_ “Nah, that’s Sans’s job.”

His eye lights come back slowly into sharp little circles, “Shit, how did I miss that?” he drops onto the table to sit, leaning back onto his hands and letting his shorter legs swing over the edge, putting his back to the empty market. 

Lilith huffs a laugh, and its rough, sounding a little more like herself, “We still need to find Madelyn.”

Felix snots, “I’ll find her. We’ll have a _short_ chat just as soon as your done.” Sans realizes with those words that Felix is watching over his sister.

Lilith is pouring all her magic into keeping the explosion contained, all her focus, and if Madelyn attacks now, it could take Lilith away from keeping it confined. Felix is doing what battle mages always do, he’s protecting his Den.

Sans settles in to wait. They’ll need a cover story, and when it comes to a _realistic_ one, neither Lilith nor Felix were great at spinning those. Sans is much better at that.

No need to let the whole damn marketplace know that Felix’s ex had gone homicidal and put them all in needless danger.

Lilith is layering more magic onto the ball when there is a flash of azure light behind Felix; it’s quick, fast like a battle mage and the sword that burst through Felix’s chest is serrated like a shark’s tooth, and sharp. It cuts through his body with easy, spattering blood across the side of Sans’s skull as Felix arches with a gasp, blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth.

The sword is ripped from his body with brutal efficiency, the jagged edges snatching onto flesh and bone as it’s being torn out that has Felix crumbing to the ground briefly. Sans jerks around, more blood bursts from Felix’s chest like a horror movie and sprays across Sans’s face; he sees Lilith jerk towards her brother and a layer of magic begins to unfurl from the ball before she refocuses to rewind it tighter. 

There’s a moment when Sans freezes as Felix stumbles, blood coming to the gaping hole in his chest and from his mouth, his hands coming up to the hole in his torso. Sans was on his feet, eye lights long gone when Felix caught himself on the table he was sitting on, green magic crackling around him and his eyes bright with fury.

Lilith’s eyes glance between the ball of magic that she’s layering and her bleeding brother. Her eyes have flooded black and she’s gritting her teeth so hard that Sans can _hear_ it. She’s terrified and angry and is stuck unable to back her brother.

But Sans is here, “I’ve got him evil mage.” His voice is hushed and rushed, teetering on controlled angry. His soul throbs like it did on those days, long-long ago, when he faced the kid when Chara was the driver of her body. Those days that they fought until he _lost,_ but things were different here. He’s not alone here.

Sans can see her shoulders loosen as she relaxes, _believing_ in Sans that he’ll keep her brother safe until she can, and she focuses back on keeping them all alive. That means something to Sans, and he’ll protect Felix as viciously as he’d protect Papyrus.

Magic blurts at his fingers as Felix straightens, his own eyes flooding black with viciousness and fury. _Vengeance_ fills him, and when Felix slowly turns the demon within flashes over his face savagely, like something out of a nightmare.

Madelyn is not afraid of him, taking a step back as she spun the sword with an easy, fluid movement of an old battle mage. Azure magic flows around her, and her eyes shone back with her own fury.

Felix snarls, green magic dancing over the gaping wound in his body, and already Sans can see the edges of the hole knitting itself back together, his healing trait gently tucking his organs back where they belong, his ribs pulling back to where they should be.

His magic is pulling him back together, readying for the fight when suddenly the healing magic sputters and stops repairing the would in his chest when it’s shallow and raw. It’s still bleeding when his magic suddenly sinks into his skin, and Felix stalls.

The magic drains from his eyes until even the gold-yellow disappears from his orbs, leaving dull brown and Felix _crumples_. He tries to catch himself with his hands, spoiled yellow magic and blood is brought up heavily, spilling onto his hands to pool sickly under him before he falls face first into the ickor.

Sans is frozen on the table, mouth parted in shock not fulling understanding what the fuck just happened or why Felix was on the ground in a pool of his own blood and vomit. He can hear Lilith behind him, can hear her breath catching and he can practically taste her anger wafting off her in thick waves that barely hid her fear.

Madelyn’s azure eyes narrowed as her mouth pulls into a cruel grin, “Fucking whore.” She sneers down at him as Felix begins to _seize,_ white foam tinted pink frothed from his mouth, practically chocking him and all Sans can do is stare in horror.

Madelyn looks like the cat that caught the canary, her smirk smug as she watched Felix suffer and only taking a step near him when the seizure finally stops. Laying vulnerable in a pool of his own blood, Felix is panting hard, trying to find his breathing, his eyes barely opened.

“You think you can _dump_ me?” she hissed at him, aiming a brutal, rib cracking kick to his chest and the wet snap shakes Sans from his frozen horror.

He blinks and his mind finally catches up with him, with what he’s seeing. He’s surprised by the _fury_ that hits him, the hate that fills his soul and he’s surprised he can feel that so deeply as a creature made of mercy.

Madelyn ignores him, doesn’t see him as a threat as his eye-lights blink out as she mocks Lilith, “Don’t let go of that bomb Death. Would be terrible if you lost your soft little boy friend and your brother all on the same day.”

Sans knows its true even before Lilith actually _growls_ and he can feel her magic flare hotly at his back like a fire. She’s stuck, and they all know it. She can’t let go of her magic; she needs to keep layering it on the bomb to keep them alive.

Lilith is stuck, and Madelyn counting Sans out.

Madelyn pulled her foot back, intending to kick Felix again when Sans’s control hand snapped up, turning her soul blue and slamming her hard into the ground.

Her face bounced off the pavement, breaking her nose with a gush of blood before Sans threw her away and through a booth. Sans turns, only partly, catching Lilith’s eyes that are darkened with rage, and gives her a dark grin, “Don’t drop your magic.”

The fury fades suddenly, that icy coldness settles over her expression and Sans hates it; she’s buried everything that makes Lilith, _Lilith,_ is gone and she’s nothing but the weapon that her Coven has crafted. She turns back to the ball of magic with laser focus, leaving Madelyn to Sans.

Sans gives himself a small shake, dropping easily off the table to take a knee beside Felix, frowning as his hand found the back of his head. He’s already burning with a fever, and Sans doesn’t understand what’s happened t him.

His mouth opens to ask when Felix lifts his head, and Sans winces; blood and icor sticks to the side of Felix’s handsome face, smeared and sticky against his smooth, golden skin, and his pupils are blow wide like he’s high. 

“Battle mages are susceptible to poison.” He slurs thickly, like he’s been drinking too much and Sans understand all at once. 

There’s the sound of Madelyn tossing a plank of wood off her, it landed with a harsh crash, but Sans doesn’t flinch. He holds Felix’s eyes as he carefully pulls him out of the spoiled magic and blood, laying him on his side so he wont choke on his own vomit when he seizes again.

Sans has no doubt that he will.

The blade that had torn through Felix had been dripping with poison, and now Sans can see the green magic of his healing trait shimmer over his prone body, unsure what to heal or what to put back together or what to purge.

Madelyn pulls herself to her feet with a snarl, her tight bun pulled from the back of her head so that it hung awkwardly by her ear. She stumbled a little as she pulled herself from the wreckage, and Sans gives Felix a little pat on his head.

His eyes slip to half mass, and Felix works his jaw, “Watch that sword. She’s got a hell of’a reach.” His words are slurred and weak, and his eyes fell shut and Felix goes limp.

Sans hesitates a little longer, gently petting Felix’s head, feeling the buzz of his short hair at the side of his scalp “Hand tight bro, I’ve got this.”

Pushing himself to his feet, Sans slowly turns to the furious battle mage and he smirks at the crack in the polished mage. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he saunters up a few steps slow and steady like he didn’t just see one of _his_ mages get shanked and left bleeding on the ground.

Madelyn snarled, panting hard as black flooded her eyes, “Move, or I’ll move you fucker.”

Grinning, he makes a low noise, “Mmmm,” Sans fakes considering it, like he would actually fucking move, “Nah.” His grin his cruel and sharp, “Don’t think I will.”

Fury thunders across Madelyn’s face, and she summons the jagged sword that she ran through Felix, “Listen to me you soft little fucker, I will rip your head-“ she doesn’t finish the sentence when Sans turns her soul blue again with a happy little ting and he slams her into the ground once, twice, thrice before he throws her into another vender stall.

He follows after her at a lazy, sedate pace, magic pulsing through him despite the laid back attitude and Madelyn screams in anger when she pulls herself out of the debris, her own rage burning hot enough that Sans can feel it from where he’s standing.

It doesn’t faze him in the least bit, he’s still leaning back nonchalantly, almost smugly but his grin is not kind, “Looked like that hurt.” The sarcasm is biting and cruel. 

Madelyn push herself to her feet with a scream, hurling a summoned blade the length of her arm at him, but Sans doesn’t even bother to short cut; he’s been training with Lilith and Felix, leaning how to _fight_ to win. He sides steps the blade with ease, doesn’t flinch when he feels it whistle by his skull and imbed itself into a wooden plank of a booth all the way to the hilt. 

Sans grins, “What? You think I was gonna just stand there and take it?”

Madelyn swallows hard and licks her teeth as she steps out of the rumble of another destroyed booth, and Sans tilts his head to the side, all easy smugness and sharp grins. She snarled, spat a clot of blood and she charged.

Something cold crawled up his spine, it wasn’t his sins, oh no.

It was ice cold fury.

He easily dodged the swing of her sword, and the next one, ducking and short cutting, and he can’t help but laugh. Her attacks aren’t as tight as Lilith’s or as powerful as Felix’s, and this is an emotionally charged attack that is verging on sloppy. Sans uses that to his advantage, and he laughs at her while dodging and poking at her anger.

“Can’t you hit something already?” he mocks, giving her a saucy wink when he sidesteps another swing of her sword, “Thought you’d be good at this kid?” 

“What’s wrong? Can’t hit the broad side of the barn there?” he ducked and spun away with a laugh, running his mouth with an amused voice even when that cold fury spread down into his ribs that he doesn’t let her see. There’s nothing tactical or logical about this attack, not like when he and Lilith fought underground, and Sans isn’t sure how she survived the war.

Madelyn sneers obscenities at him, lunging for his skull with the sharp edge of her sword; Sans ducks, and suddenly sees an opportunity as her swing unexpectedly bring Sans _under_ her arms. She’s supposed to be old; she’s supposed to be good at this and Sans again wonders how the hell she lived through the war.

Or maybe, this was exactly why Lilith killed anything soft inside within her during the war and kept those emotion smothered when she fought. Emotions made you act stupid; made you forget your training and act the fool.

Exactly like Madelyn had.

She got the jump on Felix and Lilith with a surprise attack, which as far as attacks go, isn’t half bad if your out gunned. However, if you fail, you _better_ have the control to back it up.

Magic blurts again at Sans’s fingers as he forms an attack, and the first sharpened bone tore through her stomach, taring through her belly and spine.

Madelyn gasps and blinks, slowly sinking to her knees and leaving a bloody smear along the attack. Sans short cuts back a little, putting some distance between them, his smirk a grim one as her magic shimmers over her body trying to dislodge the attack that he’s still holding.

She looks up at him, her hair is a mess and there’s debris stuck in her once glossy locks, her face pulled into a sneer that boarders on crazy. Behind Sans there’s a pop as the explosive device _finally goes_ off; Sans ignores it, sending up a dozen or so bones through Madelyn’s small body, pinning her in place.

Blood bursts from her mouth, and Sans takes no joy from her suffering, this is merely a means to an end. She almost killed Lilith, she almost killed Frisk and may still kill Felix.

Sans swallows his fury, he needs to focus and needs to get this done; this isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last, and Sans knows the only way to kill a battle mage is to shatter their soul. It’s only when Madelyn is immobilized and still, unable to fight back does Sans short cut forward, pressing his hand to her chest and pulling her soul from her body.

Madelyn struggles anew and the bright, azure soul pulses warmly in Sans’s hand, her entire being held in the palm of his hand. He’s surprised that it’s warm, had expected the coldness of what she had done to turn her soul into ice. It feels almost like Lilith’s, he’d held hers before, felt her soul press against his, _with_ in his, but the difference is, Madelyn’s feels sour and angry.

He frowns at her as she struggles, and he can hear Lilith behind him, tending to her brother and when he hears a broken sob, Sans doesn’t feel guilty when he crushes the soul in his fist. 

Madelyn goes limp instantly, slumping into the bones and blood pouring from the wounds in her body and her mouth. Sans should feel bad about it, knows it would be the _normal_ thing to feel after something like this, but he feels relieved. Even when the EXP settles into his soul, edging his LV a little more towards eleven and tastes like bile at he back of his throat, Sans doesn’t feel bad about it.

Not when she almost killed them all and _had_ killed a lot of people here at the market.

The EXP makes his head swim and nausea filled him, it settles unsteadily in his soul making him feel heavy and off kilter. Sans ignores it, stuffs all that away for later to turn to Lilith and Felix.

Sans takes a sharp breath of air as the site of Felix crumpled to the ground, broken and bleeding, he’s barely breathing, huffing little pained pants of air. Lilith has pulled his head into her lap, and Sans has never seen her so upset, so _uncertain_ as she looks now.

If Felix looks like he’s a step away from death, pale and still bleeding as his healing trait is desperately trying to purge the poison from his body and not healing the wound in his chest, then Lilith looks like she’s about to breakdown. Her usually dark, cold eyes are wide with fear and terror, pale tears lining the orbs that has Lilith blinking very hard as to not let them fall.

Her hands shake while she touches her brother, trying and failing, to stem the bleeding. Felix’s blood seeps heavily from between her fingers, coating her hands before freezing to his sweater. Lilith’s jaw is clenched tightly, her body is stiff with coiling tension and Sans knows he has to get them home to Lola if they have any hope to safe Felix.

Lilith looks up, darks eyes desperate to latch onto something solid and real, finding Sans instantly and knowing she’s safe with him. That he’ll care for her and her dying brother. 

She knows that Sans will watch out for her, “Sans…” her voice breaks a little, rough and hurt and she clings to Felix.

Sans is next to her in an instant, clinging to her and Felix just as desperately as she looks to him. One bloody hand latch’s back onto him just like a lifeline, smearing blood across his hoody, but Sans doesn’t mind.

He gives her his best charming smile even as Madelyn’s body cools and the police sirens get awfully close, “S’okay evil mage, I’ve got you.”

Lilith relaxes at those small words, her shoulder slumping a little as some of the tension leaks out of her and Sans shortcuts them home.

-

The hours that followed after Sans brough them all home seemed long and unending. Sans felt like he was caught in a horrible time stretch, where is moved a tenth of its usual speed and morning crept closer so slowly, too slowly.

It made Sans’s soul feel tight and itchy, his leg jumped with unusual jittery energy and he tugged at the blanket that covered Felix, straightening out the invisible wrinkle and he tried not to feel anxious.

They just had to make it to morning.

 _If_ Felix was going to live, he would live to see morning.

Sans’s traitorous curiosity made him glance up at the clock, and he sighed softly. It was still hours until morning, and only minutes since he last checked.

Felix just had to live until morning. 

When they landed in one of the rarely used rooms in the mage compound, the _infirmary,_ the room far too white and sparkling clean, smelling like cleaner and Lilith had let out a shaky sob as she cradled her brother’s head in her lap.

Felix was limp and barely breathing, struggling to draw air brokenly into his lungs, choking on blood and vomit and magic.

Lola had been giving Frisk some orange juice to help replace the energy lost, the kid looking pale and out of sorts, when Lola spun around, staring in horror. The way she screamed Sloan’s name for help would haunt Sans’s dreams for a while, the way she screamed brought both Sloan and Ryder taring into the room as Lola started taking vitals and began to bark orders; and Sans couldn’t help but be bitterly amused that this was the first interaction with Ryder since he’d come home.

Sans scoffed at the thought of Ryder just making it home, had probably only been home for a short while and having this dropped on his head. He wondered where his brother was but pushed that thought away. If Ryder was here and unconcerned, then Papyrus was safe. That much Sans believed.

He could still feel Felix’s blood on his hands, stuck between his joints no matter how many times he scrubbed them clean. _~~It reminded him too much of underground, when he was Asgore’s executioner, and how awful he felt after brining the souls to the capital. How he couldn’t feel clean for days afterwards, no matter how much he bathed until he just sort of stopped caring about everything.~~_

It was unpleasant.

_~~At least the filthy feeling didn’t seem to linger this round. He had been trying to save Felix’s life, not end it.~~ _

The fight to keep Felix alive had been a long, cruel one, one in which Lilith was helpless to assist with, which only complicated matters. Sans had to talk her into letting him go, wasting valuable time as her magic thrashed with agitation and confusion as she clung to her youngest brother, acting as more of a hindrance then a guard.

Sans figured that she has seen more then one friend die like this, slowly choking on their own magic and fluid while she was helpless; Lilith always had to be solid one in the shit, but when it was _her_ little brother, evil mage froze. 

So, it had been Sans who had to be the solid one, the one who talked her to letting Felix go so that Ryder could lift him to the bed and they could start putting him back together. This wasn’t a fight Lilith’ could partake in, there was no enemy to vanquish, to wrong to right, no horrible fucker for her to slice through with her blades. Sans had done that when he was needed.

Now, there was just Felix, dying in the bed while the healers tried desperately to save him. 

Lola poured everything she had into him, every drop of magic in her shallow well into her brother. Felix’s broken body had sucked that magic up like a sponge, desperate and needy, funneling all of it to his core to keep his heart beating and trying to purge the poison.

Once Lola had nothing left to give, Sloan took her place, carefully encouraging a barely awake Felix to drink healing potion after healing potion with very little affect. It was all the same, Felix’s battered body sucking up all that magic, barely healing the horrible wound in his chest as his body tries to fight for survival.

When there was no more potions to give, Sloan quietly cleaned the wound and bandaged it, giving Lola another restoration potion for another round and Lola poured more healing magic into her brother.

All the while, Lilith sat in quiet, blank shock, eyes wide and crimson as tears slipped down her cheeks as Sans held her hand. Sans felt his soul squeeze in pain for his mate, aching that he couldn’t make this better. 

Ryder called Papyrus from wherever he was, his brother had been off with Undyne having a bestie day after their days at the coast, having a little R&R. Sans’s hadn’t even _needed_ to shortcut to his brother, Papyrus had ran, practically dragging Undyne with him all the way from the Ebott entertainment district when he heard that Felix had been hurt. 

He hadn’t even bothered to shuck off his winter coat or boots, only his bright red mittens before he lay skeletal hands on Felix’s broken body and poured everything he had into the mage. Sans couldn’t do that, never could grasp the knack for healing no matter how much tried, probably because of his LV, but Papyrus could.

Felix soaked it all up just as readily as he did Lola’s magic and Sloan’s potions until Papyrus simply couldn’t give any more.

Now, in the too early morning, Felix’s soul was hooked up to an IV bag filled with Lilith’s magic, the big bore needle piercing into the soft magical essence that made up Felix, and it made Sans cringe. An IV bag filled with clear fluid, and another with blood were hooked up to his arm, carefully replacing the fluid he lost as his body tried to heal itself; a plastic mask pressed over his nose and mouth to help supply oxygen to his starving body.

He was breathing softly, his hand cold and clammy in Sans’s, and far too still as he slept.

Around them, their family had passed out and resting. Regaining their strength for another healing attempt come morning, and the only way Sans had convinced Lilith to sleep was his solemn vow to keep watch over Felix, all night long.

It was a promise Sans was going to keep, and no matter how tired he was he wasn’t going to sleep; the four cups of coffee on the night stand a testament to his determination to stay awake.

On the cot closest to where Felix was asleep, Lilith was laying as Papyrus’s little spoon cuddling into his brother’s arms as they slept. It served to sooth Lilith’s instinct since Papyrus was weakened with the amount of magic he pushed into Felix and gave a measure of comfort when she needed it most.

Behind Papyrus, Ryder lay precariously on the bed, and had they been in any other situation, Sans would have laughed at seeing three very tall people laying on a cot that was really meant for a single person. Yet, Ryder lay pressed into Papyrus, thick arm wrapped around them both, holding them to his chest.

Behind them, Sloan and Lola lay curled together, deep in sleep finding comfort with each other after fighting so hard to keep their brother alive. Nearest the door, Undyne lay asleep with Alphys and Frisk, guarding the only entrance to the room, the first line of defence should anyone be stupid enough to attack.

Sloan had heard from Liam, and Madelyn’s Den was taking the whole affair rather hard, but her Coven wasn’t looking to start a war, least of all with the Pandora Den. If Felix lived, and Sans was going to make sure he did, the Coven was forbidding any sort of retaliation.

They’d see what happened, and if Sans needed to take another mage down, he would.

In the meantime, it was Felix that needed him.

It was still so long, so many hours until morning and Felix was still breathing slowly into his mask, still too pale and unmoving. It’s all wrong, Felix shouldn’t be that still, and fuck, Sans craves a smoke, just a hit of tabaco to take the edge off.

Heaving a sigh, Sans leaned into the bed when his spine felt cramped, changing the angle of his slouch to shift the tension to something a little more bearable. Felix shifted, his grip tightening a little on his hand before his grip when lax again.

Sans sat straight up, sockets wide and eye-lights bright, “Felix?” his voice a low whisper to not wake the others.

Felix makes a soft, weak noise, before dim eyes blink open, “Sans?” it sounds like Felix has marbles in his mouth, and there’s no elegant words, no sarcasm or flirting. It’s just sheer exhaustion and slurring words.

Sans grins at him, soft and disarming, and skeletal fingers wrap tightly around Felix’s bruised hand, “Hey kiddo. How are you feeling?” he keeps his words slow and clear, letting Felix’s addled mind keep up.

Felix swallows, blinks slowly and he still looks not all together with it, “Shit.” He slurred, his head sways a little bit, and his pupils are blown wide, “Did I get my ass kicked by Madelyn?”

Sans gives him a low chuckle, and nods, “Yeah kiddo, you did. Don’t worry, it’s been dealt with.”

Felix makes a little noise of agreement, “Lilith get her?” his eyes slide shut, and he groans in pain.

Sans wishes he could give him something for the pain, but chances are it’ll interact with the magic they’ve pumped into him, “Uhhh. No. No, she didn’t. I – uh. I got her.”

That has Felix’s eyes open, and his brow furrows in confusion, “You?” Felix’s knows his reputation, his history. Knows what he did underground, knows that killing isn’t a foreign concept.

“Yeah, I did.”

Felix blinks at him slowly, like his mind can’t quite comprehend, “Sorry Sans.” He says dully, “Never wanted you to get involved. Know that….” He seems to lose his train of thought for a moment, before he gets it back, “Monsters are made of mercy and shit. Didn’t want you too…. sorry.”

Sans gives him a little shrug, giving his hand a squeeze, “It’s fine Felix. We’re family, right? We protect our own.”

Felix nods, and his eyes go duller, “Yeah. But. But I’m a battle mage, should be me that does the bad stuff. Not…not you. You’re soft.”

“Not that soft Felix.” Sans counters gently, but Felix shakes his head no.

“Soft.” He insists, “I should have protected you. I’m sorry I didn’t. I didn’t want my hook ups to get anyone in trouble. Got cocky. Should have been more careful.”

Sans pats his hand, “S’okay kid. It happens.” He had his own share of bad hook ups, so who was he to judge?

Felix huffs, it’s not quite a laugh, it’s too painful for that, “Yeah. Guess so.” Dazed eyes look back at him and he manages a crooked smile, “Lilith loves you so much.” He slurs, and Sans frowns at him.

“Yeah, I…I know.”

Felix nods, “That’s good. I’ve never seen my sis like that. Or Ryder. They are so in love with you and your brother, its adorable.” 

Sans feels something like unease spike in his soul, there’s something about the way he’s speaking that puts Sans on edge.

“I’m so glad Lilith found you. She deserves all the love in the world, and I think you love her too.”

Sans nods slowly, “Yeah, I do love her.”

Felix nods, his eyes going almost wet with emotion he can’t cope with, “I’ll never find that.” He almost sighs, “Won’t happen for me. Not like with you and Lilith.”

Sans frowns, not liking his new facet of Felix, the view into his insecurities, “Felix, come on kid. Don’t think that.”

Felix shakes his head, knocking loose one of the tears that he doesn’t have the coordination to wipe away, so Sans does it for him with the sleeve of his hoodie, “S’okay Sans.” He said softly, “Everyone just wants to fuck the demon, no one wants to stay with it.”

“You’re not an ‘it’ Felix. You’re a pretty awesome guy, and you’d be a catch for anyone.” Felix huffs, his smile crooked and drugged from magic.

“You have to say that, you’re my brother.” Felix slurs, and his eyes are going heavy. Sans has no doubt that come morning, Felix’s won’t remember this conversation and if he does, he’ll be mortified.

_~~Because Felix is making it to morning, that much Sans doesn’t doubt.~~ _

“No, your sisters say it because their your sisters, I say it ‘cuz it’s true.” Sans leaves no room for argument or debate, “Okay kid, you need to sleep.”

Felix sighs, giving him another soft smile as his eyes sink shut, “Thanks Sans.” He mutters, slurs really, and falls back to sleep.

Sans sighs, his soul aching again for the mage in the bed and wonders how much damage Madelyn did to his ego? To his emotional and mental well being? What did she do that Felix was the dumper this time, instead of the dumpee? Sans may never know, but he had a feeling that the world was a better place without her in it.

Felix didn’t wake up again that night, but his breathing was slow and steady all night long. A little of his color came back and just as the first rays of light from the early morning sun peeked trough the gap in the black out curtains, some of the magic that was Felix’s healing trait coiled around the wound in his chest.

Felix kept breathing, slow and steady as the sun began to rise, and Sans knew he’d live. Maybe not out of the woods yet, but he’d survive.

Later they’d deal with what happened with Madelyn, they’d deal with her Den and Coven, they’d deal with Felix’s pain and all that caused it.

For now, all that mattered was that Felix was alive and breathing. Weak, but he was due for a little tender love ‘n care, and Sans had no doubt that Lilith would bully her brother into some R&R. Sans would be delighted to assist in that.

For now, all that mattered was that Felix was breathing as the sun continued its march into the sky, everything else could wait.

That much, Sans had promised. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come Follow me on twitter @AcidFlames! I also now have a Pillowfort, under the name AcidGreenFlames


	7. Puzzles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the fall out of Madelyn's attack, all they can do now is wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No real warnings in this chapter. 
> 
> As always, come and chat with my on twitter at @Acidflames and enjoy!

The infirmary still smells like antiseptic and cleaner, that sharp smell of disinfectant and medication. The smell of blood has been painstakingly scrubbed away, the splatter carefully removed when Lilith had needed something to do with her hands and had way too much energy then was needed.

They had all offered to help scrub the infirmary down, wash away the stain from the pool of blood, all the bloody speckles, the vomit and magic, but Lilith had refused each and every offer; bitterly scrubbing at the floors and walls, getting into the grout on her hands and knees until her fingers went raw.

That was about the time Sans gently took the cloths and scrub brushes and put everything away, carefully washing Lilith’s hands to remove the chemicals from her skin. Sans got it, he did.

He failed his brother too, he knew that guilt well, how heavy that could be and how sometimes you needed help to let go of that weight.

Or help bare it.

Sans managed to get Lilith back to sleep, and Papyrus is certain that his skills at napping are the only thing strong enough to have tempted her to laze about. Lilith is sound asleep with Sans on the nearest cot to Felix’s, her skin overly pale with her distress and the bags under her eyes are darker than they usually are. She’s curled around Sans, holding him sweetly and tightly, and his grin is a little brighter even in sleep.

For once, Papyrus doesn’t scold and wake his brother, not now. Not when they where so close to loosing one of their own, and knows that Sans’s self defense in situations like this is too sleep; Papyrus isn’t stupid, he knows his brother isn’t lazy, not _that_ lazy and always suspected that something was wrong with Sans underground.

Coming to the surface put a name to what Sans was suffering with; depression, PTSD, night terrors. The events with Oliva and Chara had done nothing but to make his mental health take a nosedive, and it was only because of Dr. Tracy that his brother _was_ doing so well.

Papyrus had over heard Sloan already talking about extra sessions with Dr. Tracy with Lilith, once Felix was stronger. Lilith wasn’t going far from her brother, none of the mages were, but once Felix was back on his feet, Lilith needed to talk to someone about her feelings and how she was hurting. Papyrus silently thought they all did after the events with Madelyn.

For now, she succumbed to her instinct to stay close, to protect and cover her brother when he was weakened. Which meant she and Sans, who was never far from her, had been in the infirmary for the two days that Felix had been here. Neither had gotten much sleep since Sans had short cutted them home, Felix bleeding out, vomiting spoilt magic and seizing in his sister’s arms in a horrific display of nightmare fuel.

So, no. Papyrus wasn’t going to wake Sans or Lilith, not when Sans had worked so hard to finally get her to sleep.

Papyrus glanced up from the three-D puzzle he was building to watch Felix for a moment, watching the clear fluid drip softly from its bag and the magic pool in his soul. The crimson from Lilith’s magic staining the gold of his soul a little as Felix fed off the magic, the scary big bore needle still pressed into the soft organ that was Felix’s soul.

It was dimmer than it should have been, the poison slow to be purged leaving Felix feeling sick and weak, lacking the life that made Felix, _Felix_. His soul raw as his body slowly worked its way through the poison, and Papyrus didn’t like it. It left him feeling uncertain and fearful.

Someone like Felix was meant to be wild and untamed, full of life and powerful, not pale and sickly. Papyrus wasn’t stupid, he knew what the mages did outside of there home, what life and circumstance brought to their door. What they did to threats in order to keep them safe, Papyrus _knew_ what they did.

He wasn’t stupid.

It was just the first time he’d seen it so up close. The first time Lilith had to kill someone, the man who had put a gun to his brother’s head, Lilith and Sans had both been scrubbed clean long before Papyrus got home.

They were sparkling fresh from the shower so that Papyrus could squeeze them both tightly and promised that this would never happen again. 

It hadn’t been the same when Sans brought Lilith and Felix home, and Papyrus didn’t think he’d ever seen so much blood covering anyone, never mind his brother before, and not all of it was Felix’s.

Again, Papyrus wasn’t stupid.

He knew that Sans was Asgore’s Judge, the executioner who brought the souls of the first fallen children to the King and burned himself out doing it. It nearly ruined Sans, and he still bore the weight of what he did for the kingdom, and Papyrus feels a rare swell of anger. The things that Asgore deemed necessary underground had hurt many, twisted many monsters in the name of helping the masses, and it left those few sin eaters broken.

It left his brother broken.

Glancing to Sans, Papyrus frowns and tries to breath through his ire. Things are supposed to be better on the surface, safer. Sans wasn’t supposed to be ranking up EXP on the surface, but here they were.

Lilith isn’t supposed to see her brother almost die; Felix wasn’t supposed to nearly be murdered by a foolishly angry ex.

Yet, here they all are.

Papyrus looks away from his brother, away from Felix and focuses on the elephant he’s trying to build. It’s an easy puzzle, by his standards and it’s snapping together easily. Not nearly as complicated as he was hoping it would be, but the motion is soothing to his frayed nerves. It helps calm his rare tide of anger, helps Papyrus think a little more clearly and look for the silver lining in all of this.

Felix was alive and getting stronger, staying awake longer each time he woke up and Lola figured that he’d be out of the infirmary with a week or two. Papyrus clips together the last piece of the elephant, but feels a little hallow about the success, knowing it’s going to be a long, stressful two weeks.

Heaving a sigh, Papyrus sets the little elephant down and leans back in his chair, wondering if Sans would shortcut him to the store to get another 3D puzzle to help him pass the time, when he heard footsteps in the hall.

There’s a moment when Papyrus stills, fear and anger bolting through him, and orange magic fills his left eye. Magic pools at his fingers, and the orange attack is half formed when he suddenly feels Ryder’s magic in the hall.

Relief fills Papyrus, and he slumps in his chair, feeling a little bit ashamed that his first reaction was to prepare for an attack; but this whole ordeal has gotten them all a little stressed out, unsettled, and the thought of someone harming his family has him reacting foolishly.

Yet, the thought of someone coming to cause harm is hard to shake, and Papyrus doesn’t know how Sans endure this fear so long underground. 

_~~Or maybe he does, and that is why Sans has so many nihilistic tendencies.~~ _

Papyrus dismisses his magic by the time Ryder swings around the corner and into the room with them. He looks tired, like everyone does, and Papyrus thinks this has be come their new norm for the next little while. The style complete with the dark bags under his eyes and exhaustion seemed to waft off him in thick waves.

Still, Ryder’s mouth twisted into a small grin when he saw Papyrus, his blue eyes softening, and his shoulders relaxed as he sat quietly in the seat next to the monster. Those soft, light blue eyes glanced behind him, checking on both Lilith and Felix, Ryder heaved a sigh and tried to melt into the chair.

“I’m glad to see them sleeping.” His accent is thicker in his stress, and Papyrus isn’t sure he notices that.

He doesn’t say anything to point out that fact.

Instead he nods, picking his little elephant back up to fiddle with it, “Yes. Sans’s laziness overtook Lilith’s stubbornness in the end, and he’s managed to get her to sleep.”

Ryder snorts, and the silence between them is thick and awkward, their relationship is still so new, and Papyrus doesn’t know where he stands exactly. He doesn’t know what things are appropriate to ask, what things are still off limits or simply against social etiquette to ask about. He wishes Sans was awake to help.

“That didn’t take you long.” Ryder nods at the elephant, and it makes Papyrus smile at least.

“No, not for a great puzzle master such as I. It was easy.” Too easy, but Ryder had gotten Papyrus the puzzle, so he keeps that to himself as Ryder grins at him.

“It’s because your smart.” Ryder tells him, its awkward but honest, and it makes Papyrus’s soul flutter a little and orange splash across his cheeks at the honest compliment. 

Still bashful, Papyrus clears his throat, “Well. Of course. I- um. Have you gotten in contact with Rosie and her family?”

The change of subject makes Ryder frown a little, but he doesn’t comment. He just nods yes, “Yeah. She’s coming later today to see how Felix is doing.”

Rosie, Felix’s little Whimsun friend had moved into the city with her family but kept in contact with Felix on a daily basis, and they did lunch at least once a week. It was good for Felix, Papyrus thought, to have friends that weren’t the ‘friends with benefits’ type and who didn’t try to murder him. It was good for him to have friends outside of the Den.

“How are things,” Papyrus hesitates now, glancing away from Ryder with uncertainty, “How are things going with Madelyn’s Coven?”

Ryder sighs again, slouching impossibly further into his seat, “Not well.” He picks at his fingers, his scarred face pulling into an annoyed frown, “I mean, her Coven gets it. They’re siding with us as much as they reasonably can. I mean, Sans _did_ crush Madelyn’s soul with his bare hands,” Papyrus flinches at those harsh words and he hurts for his brother, but doesn’t say anything, “but Madelyn attacked first. She was the one who set up the bomb in the marketplace, she was the one who put a sword through Felix’s chest and poisoned him. She attempted to murder one of ours, attempted to murder citizens we have vowed to protect. Sans did what was necessary, what any of us would have done.”

Papyrus wants to disagree, that he would never, but he pauses. He can’t say it, that he wouldn’t, because what if it was Ryder who was harmed? Or if it was Sans who was to be caught in the blast caused by an enemy that could not be reasoned with? Could Papyrus have talked her down from attacking? Could anyone have?

Papyrus would like to think that yes, he would have tried. Would have talked Madelyn into doing better, being a better person, but he isn’t so sure when he glances to Felix and Sans. He can’t help but wonder, what would he have done in his brother’s place?

Some where deep inside, where Papyrus feels that swell of anger burn in his bones, he wonders if he would have landed the final blow.

“Her Coven understands,” the deep voice and heavy accent of his mate draws Papyrus’s gaze back to Ryder, and he feels his soul twist with the truth he doesn’t want to admit to, “Madelyn attacked us. She came into our territory with the intent to do harm, _did_ do harm.”

Papyrus nods, frowning as a realization dawned. He remembered, splashes of memory of trying to talk Frisk, _Chara_ , into doing better. Being a better person, no matter how many times he died at the demon’s hands, but Frisk is a child.

Madelyn was an adult, a high LV battle mage who made a conscious choice to hurt due to a breakup, and no one should fear breaking up with someone else, but at the core of it that was the difference. Madelyn was an adult who chose to set a bomb off in a crowded marketplace. 

They almost lost Felix to a pointless argument. A damn breakup that wouldn’t matter in a month, and Felix’s death would have been needless, leaving a hole in all their lives.

Papyrus feels oddly cold in the warm infirmary and scoots his chair closer to Ryder as the mage continues, “Madelyn’s Coven are allies of ours, we served together.” Ryder sighs deeply, jaw clenched tightly for a moment and Papyrus can see the stress building up in his mate’s chest, the distress, “Felix and Madelyn served in the same platoon for a good chunk of the war, Lilith was their team leader. When Felix started dating Madelyn, we were all happy. Thought maybe he was going to settle down finally, maybe mature a bit.” Ryder licked his teeth, shaking his head and Papyrus feels uncertain. He doesn’t think he’s going to like what Ryder is going to say next.

“We have the right to declare war, and Madelyn’s Coven doesn’t want to go to war with our Den. They know they wouldn’t win. They know they’re in the wrong, and at our core we’re supposed to be allies. We all have friends in that Coven, friends that I don’t want to see as an enemy over a breakup. Even without our Coven, our Den would decimate them, and the casualties would be high.”

Feeling his magic twist in his bones, feeling sluggish with worry, Papyrus squirms. He knows that isn’t vitriol, this isn’t bragging, this is the honest to stars truth. They’d never asked what exactly the mages had done in the war, what Ryder had done, but they had a reputation for a reason. Suddenly, Papyrus wished he had asked more questions, got them to tell more stories so he could understand fully.

For their Den, the Pandora Mages would rage war and destroy _any_ threat that came to their shores.

“Our Coven would back us, of course but no one wants war.” Ryder says quietly, and Papyrus strains to hear his mate, “We certainly don’t. We don’t want to fight our allies and friends, but we will if we have to.” Ryder gives a little shrug, “Madelyn is dead, we see no reason to drag out a pointless fight and cause young mages to die needless deaths.”

Looking up, Ryder clenches his hands together, looking bitterly at the ceiling, “Madelyn’s Den however, wants Felix and Sans’s head on a spike. They blame Felix for breaking up with her, and Sans for killing her. They’re shifting total blame onto us and us alone and are completely ignoring the fact that Madelyn likely had an LV induced rage event and set off a bomb in a crowded market.”

Fear bolted through Papyrus, and he glanced instantly to his sleeping brother and he wrung his hands. Ryder sighed again, leaning forward to gently take one of his hands before he continued, “We haven’t told Lilith yet. Sloan, Lola and Liam are still in negotiations, but the Covens are all siding with us. It wont matter to Lilith, if she thinks the Den poses a threat to Felix and Sans, she’ll do whatever necessary to keep them safe.”

Papyrus squeezes Ryder’s hand, “Even start a war?”

Ryder nods, “Especially start a war. But it won’t be that.” He glances to his sleeping little sister, his fierce, vicious little battle mage sister who was a solid LV 19 and had done her fair share of horrible things during the war, “If Madelyn’s Den pushes the issue, we will having the backing of all the Covens. It won’t be a war, it’ll be a blood bath and honestly, Lilith doesn’t need the EXP and the rest of us don’t need the nightmare’s of killing our allies.”

Ryder’s head falls low, the day wearing on him hard and the fear of what was going to happen making the usually steadfast mage uncertain, “I don’t know what will happen Papyrus. I don’t know if we will march to war or not, but I do know that I won’t allow you to be hurt. I’ll keep you safe, no matter what.”

Papyrus frowned at the too soft voice, the cold certainty that Ryder would do whatever it took to protect not just the Den, but him. _~~Because Ryder liked, liked him, and honestly, Papyrus sometimes doesn’t believe that Ryder could ever like someone like him. He wonders if Sans feels like that sometimes too, maybe he should ask him.~~_

Ryder somehow looks small, sitting hunched in the chair, his massive frame scrunched into a ball despite his massive size, and Papyrus squeezes his hand, “Ryder?” the mage doesn’t look up at him, but that’s okay, he just needs Ryder to listen, “It’s going to be okay.”

His soft voice gets Ryder to look up at him, his baby blue eyes wide with uncertainty, and Papyrus isn’t sure if Ryder could go back to war and come back as he is now. He isn’t sure that Ryder could go back at all, not with how wide his eyes are, how fear is just starting to creep into the edges.

“How is this going to be okay?” he isn’t sarcastic, the question is genuine as Ryder can’t see past his own doubt.

“I don’t know how, but I know that it will be.” He moves slowly, using Ryder’s hand as an anchor, Papyrus pulls himself into his mate’s lap. The moment he’s close, Ryder’s big hands grab at him in a gentle, desperate sort of way and Papyrus is pulled the rest of the way into the mage’s lap.

Thick, heavily muscular arms wrap around his thin frame and Papyrus doesn’t hesitate to crush Ryder’s larger frame against him. Twined together on the tiny hospital chair, they cling together, and try not to think about the almost’s and what ifs. “It’ll be alright Ryder.” He mutters into his big, scared mate’s throat, his teeth soft against the plush skin, “you won’t be alone. We’ll protect each other, if it comes to that.” 

Ryder nods against Papyrus’s skull, and he doesn’t mention the soft trembling that wrack’s Ryder’s large frame, he doesn’t mention the wetness on his skull where Ryder’s face is buried against him. Instead, Papyrus keeps talking softly, “But it won’t come to that.” He hopes it doesn’t. Ryder isn’t the only one with friends and siblings who don’t need more EXP, “Liam and Sloan and Lola will handle it. The Covens will talk the Den down, it won’t come to that.”

Ryder nods, but Papyrus isn’t sure he’s heard him, and makes a plan to speak with Sloan when she gets home. Lilith isn’t the only one who needs some extra session with Dr. Tracy.

The bags of fluids drip softly, the machines that are beeping gently as they monitor Felix’s body and Lilith and Sans are breathing quietly next to them, and in Papyrus’s arms, Ryder weeps quietly.

Papyrus doubts many of seen the inner circle of the Pandora Den at their most vulnerable, when one of their own, when Ryder’s _little brother_ lay near dead on a bed, but Papyrus wasn’t going to shy away from something like a feeling. 

For now, Papyrus held his hurting mate, his soul aching for the pain that had brought them to their knees, and he buried the anger that threatened to rise like bile at the back of his throat. Instead, he held Ryder quietly while he fell apart over his little brother and the peace that could still be destroyed by such a foolish act.

Papyrus clung to his hope that maybe, this would still turn out okay in the end.

-

When Sans woke up it was dark outside, the only light from the infirmary the softly glowing magic that fed into Felix’s soul as it cast ruby light in the room. Yawning, Sans sat up, rubbing sleep from his sockets, the uncomfortable mattress of the cot making his spine feeling out of line and his hips ache.

Hands pressed into his spine, he stretched with a deep arch and groaned when the cartilage popped.

Another yawn rippled out, and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed when he woke alone in the cot after he had worked so hard to get Lilith to sleep. She hadn’t been sleeping well since the whole incident, none of them have. Too much anxiety and worry about a counterattack, too much stress of the unknown or if they would be marching off to war.

The fear of losing Felix was still thick in the room, and fear sweat was not something that Sans was ever going to get used to.

Lilith hadn’t gone far from where they had been asleep, was sitting in a chair between two cots where her brothers slept, her feet up on a table, a small 3D puzzle of an elephant in her hands as she fiddled with it.

Pulling himself off the bed with a groan, Sans took another long stretch, scratched at the back of his hip with a shake of his head. Wandering over to his mate, he frowned at Lilith as her dark, cold eyes were focused on the little elephant his brother had put together, the crimson from her magic bathing her in a frightening crimson light that made her look like a demon from the Nether.

Sans wasn’t afraid of his girl, not even a little bit, not even with magic the color that reminded him of Chara, and he climbed into her lap without hesitation. He settled against her easily, his head pressed into her chest, sockets half lidded and he sighed happily when her arms went around him just as easily. Tightly, she crushed him against her heavily muscular body, her mouth settled against the top of his skull in a gentle kiss.

The nice thing about having a girl friend who’s a full head taller than you was the ability to have her reach things on high shelves, and full body cuddling. Lilith curled around him tightly, her body warm and full of life, and Sans went limp in her arms, sockets closed a he leaned his skull against her chest.

“You okay?” He asked her softly, listening to her heartbeat softly behind her ribs.

Lilith huffs a little, pressing her face into the top of his skull and he can feel her jaw moving as she licks her teeth, “Not really.” She mutters against him, “This has been a shit week, and I’ll feel better when Felix is out of the infirmary.”

Sans nods, pressing into her as much as he can, laying awake, socket closed and giving Lilith the space to talk if she wants to. Sans has a patient soul, one filled with justice, and he’s rewarded when Lilith quietly says, “I’m worried about Ryder.”

That makes Sans pause, frowning a little as his sockets slit open to look at the cot that Papyrus and Ryder are curled on; their curled tightly together with Ryder’s head pressed into Papyrus’s chest. He seems oddly small in his brother’s arms, protected like Papyrus would do serious harm to anyone who came for Ryder right now.

Sans honestly, wouldn’t put it past him.

Yet, Ryder is always the steady one next to Sloan, who was honestly, some creepy next level steady. He never got flustered, unless Papyrus was around, he never got mad or sad. Ryder was always just even steven.

He curled deeper into Papyrus’s chest, and Sans feels uncertainty coil like a spring in this soul. There’s something wrong, something Lilith knows about and Sans is only now getting a sense of something, “What’s happened?” he asks in a hushed voice, soft in the dark room with the light of her magic.

Lilith sighs, deep and hurt, pressing her face into his shoulder, “Ryder didn’t do as well in the war as we all like to pretend he did. He’s not a battle mage, he didn’t receive the training Felix and I have when we were younger. He’s not a spell caster, not a shield mage. He’s an illusionist with the botany trait.”

Sans feels his brow furrow, botany? They never spoke of it, and he never saw any form of Ryder’s trait; and yet, there were pots of plants around the complex that grew no matter what and thrived in an unnatural way, didn’t they?

“Ryder was never built for war, he was built to give life, not take it. He was never trained mentally for it properly, not like the rest of us where. He’s got a bravery soul, so he was never going to let us go it alone, but he’s not built for it. But he was the best saboteur we had. He’s got countless deaths under his name from causing starvation from salting the earth, poisonings from tampering with water sources, stopped supply lines and stole weaponry.”

Lilith snorted, bitter and angry, “Ryder was good at it and he hated it. But he’s a bravery soul, he did what needed to be done to protect our Coven and allies.” Sans feels her shrug, “If we lost the war, at best we’re dead. Worse, we’re slaves. Ryder did his duty, did it well even with traits that our Coven used to deem undesirable.”

Sans doesn’t like to hear Lilith talk about the war. Her voice goes soft and distance, hallow, “They had him act as an inquisitor for a very short time. He’s made more then one prisoner go mad by making them see their intestines pool on the ground or their skin dissolving. Ryder is powerful, and invisibility is only a small facet of what he can do.” Lilith shakes her head, gritting her teeth and Sans can feel the swell of irritation from her, “But he never had the heart for it. Not like Felix and I, he’s not built for war.”

Sans gets it suddenly, what Lilith is trying to tell him, “You don’t think he’ll survive another bout of war.” His voice is small and quiet, afraid to disturb the peace of the room.

Lilith shakes her head no, “Not in this fight. Not against our allies and friends.” Sans feel’s his soul squeeze with guilt, maybe he should not have kill Madelyn?

“You did the right thing.” Lilith quickly sooths, practically reading his mind and it helps a little, “I would have done it. Madelyn went way too far, and she needed to be stopped. We’ve got to deal with the fall out, all of it.”

Lilith falls quiet again, holding Sans tightly like a lifeline and he’s never hated the dark as much as he does now. What he wouldn’t give for the sun, and the snow and the days of snowballs, “I won’t let Ryder go back to war.” He says quietly.

Lilith laughs bitterly, “You can’t stop him.” That makes Sans’s soul twist, “Fuck, I can’t stop him. Ryder is Famine, and he will do what needs to be done and hate himself later.” She pauses, give Sans another squeeze, “He can cope better if he knows the people we’re dealing with deserve it. People who hurt others, who hurt kids and animals. Ryder can deal with that, can rationalize it. These are our friends.”

Sans worries about Lilith too, these are her friends and allies as well. Not just Ryder’s, and Sans will not allow this to happen. Sockets still opened to a slit, soft white light form his eye-lights glow softly against his cheek bones; Sans glances to his brother and doubts Papyrus will be willing to let Ryder tare himself apart over this. There has to be a way, some way to make this all work out.

“How are you doing?” Lilith’s voice is soft when she asks, and for a moment Sans is confused. He isn’t the one hurt or bleeding, not like the mages are.

“I’m fine?” It comes out more of a question then an actual answer, and he lets his sockets slip back shut.

Lilith snorts at him, arms binding around him tightly like armor, “You gained EXP.” She reminds him gently, too softly that makes his soul feel itchy with irritation.

“I’m fine.” He tells her again, maybe a little harsher then he indented, hating the idea that she’d treat him like glass or something fragile.

It makes her snort again, her mouth soft against his skull as she pressed another kiss against it, “Bull shit.” She mutters against the bone, and it makes Sans huff.

“You killed someone, someone who needed to die, someone who was trying to kill us, but you still did it. That takes a toll on your soul Sans.” Her voice is firm, speaking from experience and not from a place of needing to coddle, “Even with training, it’s heavy.”

He thinks about it, really considers it, thinks of the heavy apprehension as EXP settled into his soul, the bitter taste of arsenic and ozone as dread filled him. It was a familiar feeling, cold and slimy, almost like razor wire being ran through him. There and gone so briefly that Sans had honestly forgotten about it in the sheer panic to get Felix home.

He sighs again, and relaxes into Lilith’s arms, “I don’t feel it anymore.” In the hours that Sans stood guard over Felix and Lilith, terrified that they’d lose his brother, he simply stopped feeling the new EXP in his soul. Like an old wound that didn’t pull anymore, it was quickly absorbed into all that he gathered underground as Asgore’s executioner. It was nothing new, and the wound quickly forgotten.

All things considering, that wound had barely bled.

Lilith makes a small noise of concern, and Sans snuggles back in tighter into her body, “Honestly.” He hesitates before adding, “I promise.” And that makes Lilith relax a little around him, the tension leaking from her taunt body nearly intently, so Sans continues, “You two were the priority. Getting Felix help mattered the most, I didn’t even notice the EXP for long. Barely noticed the heaviness of it.”

Lilith isn’t sure if she should be more worried about that or not. She doesn’t know the consequences of gathering execution points in a monster soul. Mages, sure, but what sort of fall out will Sans get to look forward too? Lilith has no idea. 

She knows she’ll keep a close eye on him, just in case. Still, her voice is firm and sounding more like herself when she asks, “You promise to tell me if you’re not okay?”

That helps Sans relax, of all things. That tone, soft monotone as it is, is more like Lilith, _Sans’s_ Lilith, her emotions no longer buried beneath a layer of coldness or the gentleness that makes Sans think she’ll treat him any differently.

“I promise Evil Mage.” He tells her gently, and the very last of the tension from Lilith’s body finally leaks out. It’s the most relaxed Sans has felt her since the attack, and he feels himself loosen in her arms because of it, snuggling in.

Outside, a winter storm has blown in; heavy and brutal with strong winds that make the glass shutter in the frames as snow falls so heavily its nearly a white out. It almost reminds Sans of Snowdin, almost, but there’s no fear of what will happen if the power goes out. If it does, the mages will keep them warm and safe, and pay whatever cost to get it back on. 

In the meantime, Sans snuggles into Lilith’s warm body, sockets closed and intending to go back to sleep. Lilith will keep watch now, instinct will demand that she do, and there is very little Sans can do to curb that fact. Things’ll start to get back to normal soon, their normal, Sans’s hopes. It has to.

Still, there’s one question Sans is dying to know the answer too, a question that Lilith maybe the only person who knows the truth, “Why did Felix break up with Madelyn?”

The tension is back in Lilith’s shoulders and spine for the briefest of moments, and Sans regrets his question when he feels her stiffen. It’s gone just as quickly as the heaviness from his soul was gone, and she’s back to lounging in the uncomfortable hospital chair with her feet up on the table and Sans curled in her arms.

“When Felix started dating Madelyn, we were all excited about it. Madelyn was from an ally Den, served under me in the war. Served next to Felix in the war, was a battle mage and understood what that meant. Understood what Felix is like and what his needs will be. Understands what it’s like to have instinct and LV riding you hard, and how to cope with that.”

“So, what happened?” San thinks it’s such a simple question but feels something kin to sin’s crawling up his back when Lilith laughs bitterly.

“Felix found out that Madelyn was a monster hating bigot who thought our great-great grandparents had the right idea of locking you all under a fucking mountain.” It was said so lightly, so non-confrontationally, that Sans almost misses the words that Lilith says.

Pushing himself up so he could grasp at Lilith’s shoulders, sockets wide with uncertainty, Sans stares at her with open-mouthed shock, “What?”

Lilith nods, frowning and looking grim, “Yeah. That’s…yeah.” Sans doesn’t move, his shock slowly becoming anger, and Lilith sighs and settles back into the chair a little more comfortably, “She wasn’t like the Den from Christmas, she wasn’t looking to turn Felix.”

“She just wanted us all dead?” Sans dead panned, feeling his own LV and his shiny new EXP rumble miserably in his soul, the Judge roiling unhappily.

Lilith’s mouth pulls into a thin line, “Yeah.” She says slowly, the first flicker of irritation and anger flash in her eyes, making them pulse crimson with her magic, “I don’t know if she wanted you dead, but. Yeah.” She pauses again, cringing a little, “Felix didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t have her in our territory with feelings like that, and I think. He was hoping to change her mind?”

Sans tries, he does, to not give her the flat look he does, but Lilith still shrugs unapologetically, “The irony was not lost on us. We fought in a centuries long war for the freedom of people that ruling classes deemed as _undesirable_. We fought for our freedom, only for Madelyn to turn into the very thing we hate.” She shrugs again, “I think. I think Felix was hoping to show her that, monsters aren’t a thing to fear. That, there’s nothing wrong with you all, and help her understand all the horror stories we grew up with were lies.”

That softens Sans a little, but not much.

“Felix didn’t think she was a threat, at the time. She wasn’t looking to kill you all, like the other Den was. She just. Didn’t like you.” It sounds weak to Lilith’s own ears, “Felix was hoping to prove her wrong, but he wasn’t going to invite that into our lives or territory. He dumped her as soon as she told him what she thought. Told her she wasn’t welcome here if she felt like that.”

Lilith snorted, scrubbing her face with her hand, the weariness finally showing, “It was her ego couldn’t take the hit. Everyone knows that Felix likes to have sex, and that’s up to him. I’ll support and love my brother no matter what, and if that makes him happy so be it.” She almost sounds defensive, “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Sans nods and agrees, there isn’t anything wrong with how Felix chooses to spend his time, the Angel knows that he’s been there himself. Sans didn’t judge, and neither did Lilith. “But Madelyn, she couldn’t handle the fact that Felix dumped her and not the other way around. And the fact that, _that_ was what made her go homicidal, that monsters living among us had nothing to do with her snapping, is the dumbest shit I’ve heard in a while.” Lilith rubs her eyes, and there’s another pulse of crimson, “Maybe we should have killed her right at the start of all this. Got rid of the body and hoped her Den never found out.”

It certainly would make things easier, and Sans almost wants to agree. The Judge inside purrs at the thought, but instead Sans’s says quietly, “Papyrus would have wanted to give her a chance.” And honestly, Papyrus was the best of all of them, the only one full of mercy. The only one besides the mages of their Den who looked past a large, scared mage and saw the soft, gentle human beneath the warrior. Always saw the best in people and would have been so _proud_ of Felix for not taking the road of violence to solve his problems. For trying and not taking the easy road, for all the good it did them.

The words help Lilith relax, her eyes gone dark again as she glances to Papyrus and Ryder curled on the cot and snuggles down into Sans; he can feel the agitation just starting to bubble in her soul. Just under her skin, and he can’t imagine the self control it would have taken Felix to exert that kind of mercy when everything in him would have been screaming to remove the threat completely.

All because, in the end, it would make Papyrus proud of him.

Even if his mercy was wasted and thrown back in his face, and a small part of Sans hopes that the next time Felix is in a position of power, he shows mercy again. The larger, logical part of Sans knows he likely won’t.

Lilith’s hand is at the back of his skull, soft and gentle before it moves down to stroke his spine, “You should get some sleep love. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be another long day.”

Sans gives his brother and Ryder one last look to satisfy that clawing anxiety that needed to be soothed by seeing Papyrus alive and well; one last check in with Felix to watch his chest move up and down slowly as he breaths, just to make sure he is before he closes his sockets. 

“Kay.” He yawned before he finally pressed into Lilith with a sigh, “But you need to sleep too.”

Lilith snorted at him, but she shifted down wards to lay a little more across the chair and the table, the 3D elephant puzzle still held in her curled fist, “Alright love.”

There’s a long moment, just as Sans is starting to slip back into sleep and he’s floating on a bubble of contentment, when Lilith’s voice is soft in the dark room, “Sans?”

“Mhmm?” he’s almost asleep, but he can hear the hopeful hesitation there.

Lilith pauses again, seemingly to rally her courage before she asks, “Can you purr again?” her voice is small and uncertain, and Sans remembers that her brother almost died. That some part of her is bleeding because of what happened, and if Sans can give her some small comfort, he’ll do it.

He doesn’t say anything, just clears his throat and takes a moment get the discussed portion of his throat warmed before the deep, rumbling purr quietly vibrates between them. It feels more intimate than sharing a breath, something only for them, and Lilith squeezes him impossibly tighter in the warm, dark room. 

They fell back asleep, curled tightly into each other between their brothers, and acting as an honor guard in a way that only older siblings can.

-

The weather is still storming outside when Felix wakes, but it has to be at least mid morning based on the light that has made it through the snow and wind.

His mouth feels dry and his chest aches with the nearly healed wound; fever makes him feel hot and sweaty as his healing trait is trying to purge the poison. He feels sick, like he has the _worse_ stomach flu ever to crawl out of the hell scape that sicknesses come from.

Yet, he survived until morning, two mornings now, so the likely hood of his survival is much higher now then they were two days ago. Felix smirks bitterly, his mouth twisting into something cruel. Sure, he feels like shit, but he’ll live.

_I told you we should have killed her._ The demon humms from inside his soul, and Felix groans at the feeling of nails on a chalk board in his head.

“Oh, shut up.” He groans at the voice in his head, pressing the heals of his hands into his temples, cringing at the feeling of the IV’s pulling at his arm. The bag of fluid and magic are full, Lola must have been in earlier to change both, keeping him alive and almost well. 

The demon laughs inside his head but pulls back into the dark recesses of Felix’s mind, leaving his throbbing skull blessedly quiet, “Thank you.” He sighs, and the creature within purrs it’s _your welcome_ back to him.

Opening his eyes has become a chore he didn’t think would ever be this difficult, but when he does, Felix manages to grin softly into the room. On the cot nearest to him, Papyrus and Ryder are asleep, Ryder curled tightly into Papyrus in a way that some how makes him look smaller. Good, Ryder needs the sleep, and there is no one better to care for his older brother then Paps.

In the chair next to his bed, Lilith lay stretched out with Sans in her lap; his sisters mate curled tightly in her embrace, and both seem to be smiling softly in their sleep, their expressions gentle.

There’s a pang of hurt that echo’s painfully through Felix’s soul, one that would cripple him if he let it, one that rouses the demon to ensure they have not been attacked again. 

“I’m fine.” He mutters to the creature inside, but he can feel it rumble in the negative, that he’s not okay and he’s not believed.

Felix rolls his eyes, and settles into his cot, watching his siblings sleep with their beloved mates, and just _wishes_ for something even close. He’s not jealous, not by a long shot, and the demon rumbles an agreement that they’re not.

It’s just…Felix thought he could have had that with Madelyn.

Snorting, Felix rubs the sleep from his eyes and curses the dead mage. Maybe the demon was right, he should have killed her when he had the chance.

_Yes_. It agrees inside with a deep laugh.

Felix ignores him and wishes.

He wishes.

He just wishes that someone could love him like that.

The demon giggles, sounding almost crazed at the sheer joy it takes when it says _They will. Be patient Child._

Felix rolls his eyes again, calling bull shit.

“Felix?” Rosie’s little voice, afraid and hesitant break the conversation off, and anything else the creature might have said, is forgotten. Thing was a shit seer if Felix said so himself. Didn’t even see him getting shanked.

“Hey kiddo.” His voice is rough, but he smiles none the less, genuinely pleased to see his friend. The first life he saved from the underground, “How’s your mom?”

Rosie makes a small noise like a sob, and flutters over to him, landing on his chest in a small ball of trembling magic and tears, her small voice higher then usual, “You idiot!” she sobs out, making Felix chuckle, “Why didn’t you watch behind you!”

“Sorry.” He mutters, his big hand draped over her tiny from, his tub brushing at her head, “got cocky.”

Rosie keeps sobbing, her tiny hands fisting into his white shirt, and the words from the demon and its crap prophecy of finding love forgotten. He had his Den and his friends, maybe he didn’t need anything else, “Think I’ll take a break from dating for a while.” He laughed roughly.

Somehow, that does feel right, like now, just isn’t his time.

Glancing to his brother and sister, Felix takes comfort in the fact they found their mates and maybe, there was still hope for him too.


	8. What we do in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus is reminded a thing or two about high LV mages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello team, 
> 
> Welcome to the latest installment of Five Months. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, it was harder to write as I do find Papyrus harder to nail down. Please be warned that there will be AU typical violence, battle mages being battle mages, blood, gore and violence in this chapter. Although not necessarily in detail, the after math is so please take care of yourselves. 
> 
> As always, come chat with me on twitter at @FlamesAcid and if you want to drop a line to comment, it's always appreciated. 
> 
> Cheers.

Nearly a week after the attack is when Papyrus thought that maybe things were going to start getting back to normal, and that things were going to be okay. It was nearly a full week, a blessedly quiet week with no attacks, no threats, not even a peep from Madelyn’s Den; and although Papyrus wouldn’t say it was relaxing, per say, but the anxiety was starting to dwindle. 

Felix was awake and coherent, a step in the right direction at the very least, even if he was still weak and pale. The awful whole in his chest had finally knitted shut, bones and organs back in place where they should be, nothing but a silvery star shaped scar to remind him of his very real brush with death. A stark reminder that even battle mages were not unkillable. 

He was watching a movie on a tablet, slouching back against the wall at his back, Rosie on his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck and Frisk between his legs. The human was leaning back against his chest, the side of her head pressed into his sternum, one hand gripping at his white t-shirt as they all watched whatever movie Felix put on for them; the mage’s thick arm banded around her as they snuggled on the cot.

Hurt squeezed at Papyrus’s soul, hurt for the tiny human who had saved them all and everything that had happened to them. Frisk may not have been there to see what happened, how Felix had been hurt but she had seen the after math. The blood and the horror while they tried to desperately piece Felix back together, the child lost in the hustle of panic as Felix took priority over everything.

Frisk had sat in stunned silence as the Den put him back together, tried to keep him from bleeding out while Lilith had been too far into shock to be of any use to her baby sister. Frisk had bore witness to the horror around them until Undyne had returned home with Papyrus and taken the kid to the kitchen to wait for the all clear.

By then it was too late, and the damage had been done.

This left Frisk being unusually clingy to her older brother, traumatized and the moment Felix was able to hold a conversation, the child hadn’t left his side.

Not that anyone else in the Den had been much better, none of the mages going far from Felix, instinct demanding they tuck their injured Den mate in the centre of their pile and protect him. That instinct seemed to be riding Lilith the hardest, and Papyrus was certain she hadn’t been sleeping in her room even after Felix was stable enough to not need constant monitoring.

It worried Papyrus, it really did and he wondered about how far reaching these after shocks would be to their mental states. He wondered how deeply these after shocks would rock the foundation of their stable, happy life.

Papyrus sighed a little sadly, trying to swallow his own hurt and settled into Ryder a little more to read his book. His mate was going through reports again, the papers spread out in front of them as Ryder tried to triage who needed to be seen to first, what supplies needed to be pulled from where and putting in the request to the Coven leaders to bring extra mages in to help support while Felix was down.

They had put that request, the one for help, in days ago, and the first response had been that if the Pandora Den couldn’t care for their territory, maybe they shouldn’t have all of it. Sloan hadn’t even needed to call Liam before their Den mother, Maia, one of the last elders, had torn into the Coven leaders, scolding them like children before calling Ryder to tell him to reach out again.

Papyrus would like to meet this woman, he thinks. Fierce enough to survive the war with waning magic, but kind enough to raise someone as kind-hearted as Ryder.

An old mage, that reminds Papyrus of someone he thought he knew from snatches of memory of long ago, but his head would ache if he concentrated too hard on those missing memories. That important, missing, someone.

Shaking the thought away, Papyrus presses into Ryder a little more, drawing the massive mage’s attention with a gentle smile and a kiss pressed to his skull affectionately. Papyrus soaked up the affection as Ryder’s head turns so he can rub his cheek against Papyrus’s skull before immersing himself back into his paperwork, and that help settle his worry a little more. 

It’ll be okay, they’ve survived worse, they’ll survive this so long as they have each other.

A wet, rattling cough brings his sockets up and Papyrus frowns a little. His brother is getting sick again, just as bad as when he was sick at Christmas, and it won’t be long before Sans is bed bound giving Lilith someone else to fuss over.

Sans, at least, is a better patient then Felix is and will allow Lilith to give into her basic instincts to defend and care for something more vulnerable then herself. 

It figures, Papyrus thinks bitterly, that just after Sans flexes a great amount of magic to stop someone from killing Felix, proving without a shadow of a doubt that he is the Royal Judge, that he gets sick. It’s one more thing that Papyrus worries about, one more thing to consider while living on the surface. Sans still has extremely low HP with it sitting stubbornly at six now and raising no higher in the last five months. His deep well of magic doesn’t matter as much as it doesn’t save him from getting so ill.

Trying not to stare, Papyrus watches Sans from the corner of his socket, watches his brother’s laboured breathing from under the thin sheet that covered him, he’s just starting to run a fever, not tolerating anything heavier. He’s asleep in Lilith’s lap as she plays on her switch-thing, currently obsessed with a new video game that Papyrus didn’t quite grasp the concept of. He didn’t understand what a ‘pocket monster’ was or why she needed to catch them all, but it kept her still and not fidgety while Sans curled up in a tight little ball with his head against her bosom, limp with dark smudges under his sockets. There’s a wet rattle from his chest with every painful little breath, his magic thick and congested, which Papyrus is so confused about as they don’t have lungs. 

No matter, he supposes, Lilith has him. She has high LV and runs hot enough to keep Sans warm, which in all honestly maybe part of the reason he doesn’t need a thicker blanket, but the image of Lilith coiled tightly around Sans makes Papyrus shiver. How many times had she done just this? How many times had Lilith acted like armor for his brother to ease his suffering, just to see Sans fall victim to something horrible all over again?

Papyrus still had nightmares of finding out what happened to Sans underground, what Oliva had done to him. What Chara had while she had him for four months. Sans never spoke of it of course, Angel forbid he talk out his feelings, but that didn’t mean that Papyrus didn’t see the haunted look or the hunched shoulders like Sans sometimes expected a blow.

He didn’t _not_ see how sometimes Sans would just shut down and needed a complete and total mental reboot that was usually followed by an emotional crash afterwards.

They seemed to be happening less now, that he saw Dr. Tracy.

It still happened.

Sans fell a lot, but he always picked himself up for Papyrus and Lilith. Never for himself, stars for bid that, but always for them. Maybe that was why Lilith was so protective? Always ready to dole out affection to his brother without hesitation or fear of ridicule. Always ready to fight or take a hit on his behalf. Or maybe that was just a battle mage thing? Besides, Papyrus was sure that if anyone tried to mock Lilith for being affectionate with Sans, they’d take a knife to the gut pretty quickly.

Lilith really hadn’t kicked that murder-y habit of hers. Not like she actually tried.

Papyrus looked to Ryder, massive and heavy, built thickly with dense muscle and a scarred face, and Papyrus doesn’t doubt what Ryder would do for him too. Maybe protectiveness was just a mage thing.

Either way, Papyrus snuggled into his mate, going back to his book with the intention to try to relax this afternoon and shake away the last of his anxiety from this horrible week. Yes, Felix was still hurt but getting better. Yes, Sans was getting sick but he would be well card for.

Sloan was already talking about getting everyone into see Dr. Tracy, work through all this pain that seemed to be swelling in each of them.

Yes, dealing with that, would be top priority. Easing the pain inside at the betrayal so they could move forward.

It was then, in the quiet as they were unwinding, that Papyrus was reminded that catastrophes happened in waves and they were clearly in the middle of said wave.

The screech of a siren made everyone in the room jerk and freeze, Sans snapping awake as his socket burst into blue and yellow magic as he looked wildly around. He gripped at Lilith in a bruising hold that she didn’t notice as wide, crimson eyes snapped to the window, her usually cold face set suddenly into a hot fury. She clings to Sans just as tightly, as though if someone would dare harm him and she would rip there throat out for even the thought. 

“Fuck.” It was Ryder who breathed the curse as his next words, and as the siren keeps screaming no one tells him to watch his language.

Screaming sirens are rarely a good thing, in Papyrus’s experience. 

The flurry of movement happens all at once; Lilith is easing Sans from her lap, uncurling his hands from her body with a gentleness that doesn’t match her murderous expression before she eases him down into the cot. Ryder is doing the same, massive hands gentle on Papyrus’s bones like he’s the delicate one healing on the cot, reports forgotten and abandoned.

Lilith is on her feet first, hesitating only long enough to press a kiss to Sans’s teeth and a quick nuzzle into a round cheek. He’s sweating and hot, sockets already drooping as his body demands he sleep, and Lilith doesn’t hesitate to cup his cheeks and kiss him again.

“Waz happening?” Sans’s voice is thick with rawness of being sick and sleep, but he’s trying to fight it off in case he’s needed.

“I’m sorry love, I don’t have time to explain.” Crimson eyes look regretfully to the window and already dragons are filling the skies, “I’ll explain when I get back.”

Sans swallows, his throat clicking with dryness, and Papyrus can see him already falling back to sleep despite the shrill call of the siren, “Okay.” His voice is drowsy and deep, and Sans doesn’t fight Lilith’s hand when she guides him back down to the cot, “Are you going to kill someone?”

“Probably.” Lilith doesn’t hesitate to tell him, doesn’t bother to lie.

Sans gives a little hum, already falling back to sleep, fully trusting that Lilith and her Den will take care of any threat foolish enough to tangle with them, “Kay. Be careful Evil Mage.”

Lilith whispers something against Sans’s skull that Papyrus can’t hear and pressing another kiss to Sans’s skull that makes him sigh happily, before she turns. There’s fury in her eyes, the crimson fading into wall to wall black and invisible fingers pull her hair into a braid as her armor hardens into reality. Her armor seems more angular then Papyrus remembers, sharper, and knows that her emotions are feeding into its form.

Felix is struggling to get Frisk off his lap, but the human clings to him harder with a white-knuckle grip, her little head pressing into his chest. Felix is panting with the exertion to get Frisk off him, still weak from the poison, he’s unusually flushed with the effort.

“Frisk, com’on kid. I gotta go.” His words are rough with exhaustion, and he can’t seem to pry Frisk’s hands from his shirt as her head shakes no vigorously.

“You’re not coming Felix.” Lilith’s voice is cold when she shoves Felix back into bed by his shoulder, her expression is like ice even when Felix turn gold eyes filled with betrayal up at her.

“Yes I am.” He’s defiant even as Lilith presses down on his shoulder, magic and power radiating off her.

Her eyes narrow and the siren suddenly cuts out, leaving a deafening silence in its wake and now Papyrus can hear Frisk’s teeth chattering, fear coming off her in thick waves. Papyrus wonders if Ryder can feel his own growing unease in the post siren silence that sends a shiver up his spine.

“You’re not.” He opens his mouth to argue, but Lilith is faster, “I don’t have time to deal with your childish bullshit Felix. You’re sick and hurt, and your staying in bed with Frisk and Rosie.”

Frisk gives him a triumphant with the backing of her older sister, doesn’t shy away even as Felix’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, wide gold eyes filled with irritation at the truth, “I want to…you can’t make me…” he stops when he realizes that, yes, in fact, Lilith can make him.

She can hear the protest that doesn’t leave his mouth, crosses her arms and raises a slim brow at him. It has Felix slouching in defeat, “Fiiiiine.” he all but whines, settling back into the cot with Frisk and Rosie, “But you better bring me back a head or something.”

Lilith chuckles, but its dark and cutting and it makes Papyrus shutter at a sound that bordered on evil, “Don’t I always?” it’s lightly said, and there is definitely a story there, one Papyrus isn’t sure he wants to know.

That seems to settle Felix, and he gets himself and Frisk back into a comfortable position to watch their movie, waving his sister on, “Yeah, yeah. Make sure it’s in one piece this time.”

Yup, Papyrus doesn’t want to know.

Lilith chuckles that dark little laugh again, the subtle shift in her body becomes more threatening, her eyes dark and devoid of emotion as magic sparks at her fingers. It’s like a switch has been flipped, and Lilith isn’t standing in the room with them anymore, but the embodiment of Death.

She childishly ruffling her brothers messy mohawk, something Felix tolerate with a roll of his eyes, before Lilith turns and heads for the door. She pauses, only briefly, to squeeze Papyrus’s arm in what she must think is comfort but only makes Papyrus nervous to be near someone on the cusp of violence, before she makes for the door.

Lola nearly runs into her, two bags slung over her shoulder and she’s shoving a 12 gauge into her sister’s hands; Lilith pumping the 12 gauge with one hand, a feat that she made look easy and Papyrus always thought was something only for movies.

Lola’s words are hard and clipped as she hands over one of the pack, and Lilith slings it over her shoulder easily, “Wren found them. They’re in the East forest, near Warren’s waterfall. We have to hurry, Sloan’s already on foot with Undyne.”

Lilith nods, and then they’re gone, tracing and running into a threat while Papyrus is left behind.

That makes him feel…not great.

Ryder is still there, his massive body hesitating between him and the door, his own armor blessed to him by Felix and is slow to wrap around his body. Papyrus tilts his head up towards him, brows furrowed in confusion and his hands wring nervously. He wonders what Ryder sees when he stares down at him, wonders if he sees an innocent, naïve monster who’s afraid to lose the people he loves.

He wonders if Sans would feel like that if he was well, or if he would have been at Lilith’s heels into a fight that would only raise is EXP a little more. 

“I have to go.” Ryder’s words are small and awkward, and Papyrus finds himself nodding along with the words.

“Okay.” His own words are quiet in the post screech of the siren and the deafening silence, “Be careful.”

Ryder nods and seems to physically squirm with indecision before he leans down to press a kiss to Papyrus’s cheek, “I will.” He rumbles softly, his large body hot next to Papyrus’s, the soft words sending a shiver down Papyrus’s spine.

With a last brush at his cheek bone with his thumb, and one more kiss, Ryder pulls away and Papyrus mourns the loss of contact and heat. Then he’s gone after his sisters, leaving a cold, unsettling dread in Papyrus’s soul.

Felix groans, drawing Papyrus’s sockets to him, and his smirk is sharp, “You guys are so adorable, it’s fucking gross.”

Papyrus takes no offence, he knows he’s adorable with Ryder, but he still grins when Frisk lightly elbows her brother in the chest. Felix chuckles, settling back in to watch his movie, unworried about the sirens or dragons or threats.

Or the promise that Lilith will bring him back a severed head, for what purpose Papyrus didn’t want to know.

Outside the window, Papyrus can still see dragons in the air, knows that Lilith is friends with one, Wren, and knows something bad is happening. He’s never heard those sirens scream, not in the five months they’d been on the surface. It makes him nervous and uncertain; it makes him worry for Ryder and the others.

Mostly for Ryder, who’s not as well equipped to deal with the fall out. Who hesitated when there was a call to arms, wanting to stay with Papyrus but choosing to take the hard road. 

“Felix,” Papyrus asks quietly, earning a grunt from the battle mage to let him know he was listening, “What’s happening?”

Frisk looks worried, and she knows what’s happening. Felix only sighs and pauses their movie to turn his body to fully look at Papyrus, his too pale face is grim, “Those sirens let us know when poachers are in the forest.”

Papyrus frowns, not understanding, “Poachers? What are they hunting?”

Felix’s frown deepens, and he scratches at the back of his neck, his face falling into a false innocence as he feels uncertain, “Unicorns.” He tells Papyrus simply, his voice raw, and Papyrus feels his soul stutter.

“Unicorns?” Papyrus remembers the mother and foal that Ryder had shown him at Gyftmas time, that soft innocence, that intelligence.

Felix nod, dull gold flashing in his eyes as his anger spikes. He isn’t able to maintain it, and the gold dims back to dark brown, “Yeah.” His voice is soft and angry, “Unicorn,” he hesitates, “Parts are used for a number of different spells and potions. Blood, hair, skin, bones.” Felix pauses again, “Their horns. All of it can be sold for a high price on the black market, so we take protection of the unicorns in our territory seriously.”

Felix squirms, and Papyrus can see how much he hates being bed bound. He would rather be in the thick of it, protecting those innocent creatures with his sisters and brother, “We have three herds that live permanently in our territory, and one that passes between our territory and Den from our Coven. Not many poachers are willing to tempt our wrath. My guess, they heard I got hurt and thought this would be a good time to try.”

The anger is back in Felix’s eyes, and the demon flashes over his face, “It’s a terrible thing to hurt a unicorn. They’re the definition of innocents, perfect creatures and the magic from their bodies should be given to you, not taken.” Hesitant eyes glance to Papyrus before they turn back to look outside the window and the dragons, “To hurt one of our herds is punishable by death.” Such a harsh statement said so lightly. 

Something like dread fills Papyrus’s soul as Felix snorts, his smirk bitter and dark as he goes back to his movie with Frisk and Rosie, “The poachers are about to have a very violent reminder that we are not to be trifled with. There are few things in this world that we adore more then unicorns.” Felix pauses, his grin cruel, “Especially Ryder. When we returned from the war, he was all shades of fucked up.” Felix snorts and glances to Sans where he’s asleep, “We all where, and needed something. Unicorn population took a big hit during the war, and when the herds started to migrate into our territory, Ryder clung to them. He protected them more viciously then even Lilith or me, he adored their kindness and innocence.”

Felix hummed, grinning, “Kind of like you Paps.”

Frowning, Papyrus feels his soul clench. These innocent creatures meant a lot to Ryder, they helped him when he needed it the most and Papyrus feels guilt for not being there for Ryder _now_ , “Felix?” the battle mage humm at him, letting Papyrus know he’s listening, “Is Ryder going to kill someone?”

Felix looks back at him, his face unusually serious, “Yes. Without a doubt.” He gives a little shrug, “And probably violently.” The smirk that grows is vicious, “His vice is cruelty, and it’s been a long while since he’s let _that_ off it’s chain.”

That makes Papyrus’s soul twist. Ryder has high LV, or at least Papyrus always assumed he did. He never had the bravery to check, to confirm that it was as obscenely high as Lilith’s or Felix’s, but Papyrus _knows_ he doesn’t need more.

He knows that Ryder and his Den need him, and with determination to do the right thing, to help in _anyway_ , Papyrus pushes himself up out of the chair to go after his way ward mate. He ignores Felix’s surprised squawk, his weak calls to come back. If Papyrus hurries, he can catch the mages before they start their hunt and do…something.

Felix watches Papyrus go with a nauseous mixture of panic and worry, and sheer glee. Nothing brings a Den together like hunting down some fuck who hurt something innocent like a unicorn. There was no questioning that removing that threat was the right thing to do, and Felix knew that Paps would be well taken care of. Besides, Papyrus _needed_ to understand what their Den did, what Ryder could do, if their relationship had any hope to survive.

Sans understood perfectly what Lilith was and what she could do, accepted that she was a warrior and a killer, and loved her all the same. If Paps couldn’t accept that piece of Ryder, they were gonna have problems.

Settling into is cot, he glances to Sans, silently promising Lilith to keep him safe until she returns. Sick and hurt or not, Felix won’t let anything touch him.

“Well,” Felix says to Frisk and Rosie, turning the movie back on, “At least you three are still here.”

Frisk frowned up at her big brother and settled in for a long wait.

-

It hadn’t taken Papyrus long to find the mages, the circling dragons in the sky and the trails in the snow from desperate mages made it easy to follow, even if they were leap tracing through the forest.

Papyrus was starting to get his bearings in the forest, his time out there with Ryder had helped and he knows where Warren’s waterfall is. It had been one of the first places that Ryder took Papyrus after they were officially date mates.

It had been a cold, snowy date, the perfect excuse to pull in close to that warm, thick body and sit on the edge of a mostly frozen pond to watch the power of a massive waterfall. The water here probably fed into the water systems below, creating what had become Waterfall underground.

It had been a peaceful, serene first date with soft conversation and gentle hand holding; Warren’s waterfall had quickly become one of Papyrus’s favorite spots in the forest.

Now, it was full of a flurry of movement, pools if silvery blood stained the snow and all the peaceful tranquility was gone. A dozen or so unicorns formed a loose circle around a small group of their injured, horns down, pawing at the snow in pseudo attempt to attack, pulling back at the last moment each time.

Lola standing next to them, looking small and helpless, hands up and trying to pacify the big stallion rearing up and kicking at her with powerful legs. Lilith, Sloan and Undyne were just behind her, each ready to pull her back from a strike that may get too close.

Tension is thick around them, fear so heavy that it feels oppressive and Papyrus immediately seeks out Ryder. He need confirmation he’s okay, needs to know that everything is going to be okay.

Yet, Ryder is staring at the dead, face blank and eyes that eery wall to wall black as his vice crushes his soul. Laid out before him, were the scattered remains of four…no five butchered unicorns. Papyrus wants to look away, he really does, but it’s the kind of horror one can’t look away from.

Who could have done such a thing? Committed such violence against such an innocent creature?

There aren’t enough _pieces_ of the dead to create a single unicorn, the poachers who had done this had been cruel and quick. Efficient, and fled quickly once the sirens had gone off. They left behind the evidence of their brutality, left parts of the unicorns scattered just beyond the pool of the waterfall.

Papyrus swallows back the bile that threatens to rise, tasting magic in the back of his throat and he has to look away. He doesn’t know how Ryder can stare at the carnage before them and not be sick, how he can just _stare_ silent and unmoving.

Instead he focuses on Lola and the stallion, sees how he rears back to keep her away, and her soothing voice, “Please. I know your afraid, but we won’t hurt you. Let us help you, please.”

Papyrus’s head tilted, frowning at Lola, and how he can hear the unicorn too, in the same way they can hear the dragons. His strong, angry voice telling Lola to stay back, stay away. Threatening to do harm if she doesn’t stay away. He blinks at them both, and it dawns on Papyrus that, they can’t understand each other.

Confusion ripples through him, not understanding what he was seeing or why Lola couldn’t understand the stallion. Glancing to the others, it seems as though they don’t understand either, when it suddenly occurs to Papyrus that he’s the only one here without any LV.

None, absolutely none, whereas his fierce warrior family all had LV.

They can’t hear the unicorn, a peaceful, innocent creature who is threatening to crush Lola’s head under his powerful hooves.

“Please.” Lola pleaded, hands up in surrender, her eyes flashing emerald with her magic, helpless tears gathering at the corners of her eyes as she wants to save the injured, “Please, let me help.”

The unicorn reared and snorted, powerful legs forcing Lola to back up, and Papyrus felt himself straighten up as he puffed his chest. He wanted to rush in, get between Lola and the unicorn, and make everything okay, he doubted moving quickly would do much good right now.

Instead, Papyrus moved slowly, hands up, his voice soft, “It’s okay. I know you are frightened, but you don’t need to be.”

Everyone’s head snapped to him, even the massive unicorn, and Papyrus could have laughed at their shocked and surprised faces. His voice snapped Ryder out of his stillness, the massive mage making a watery noise at seeing him here, seeing him walk among the dead.

He ignored Lilith’s cold, cold eyes and Sloan’s anger, focusing solely on the creatures before him. The stallion calmed, blinking dark, intelligent eyes at him, “It is okay, we are not here to harm you.” He was confident in his tone, hands up like Lola’s and cautions. His voice soft and quiet as to not startle. 

He takes a step forward, inching ever closer to the creature before him. Lilith shifts at his back as he steps passed Lola, her too flat voice calling out to him, “Be careful Papyrus.”

Papyrus gives her a little nod, inching closer, “It’s okay.” And he doesn’t know who he’s speaking to, if it’s the creature before him or Lilith, “We won’t hurt you.”

The unicorn calms, snorting and pawing at the snow, its massive head tilting, a voice whispers in his skull, _innocent_.

The thought is not his own, said in the same odd way that unicorns speak, and Papyrus nods yes, “Yes. I have not hurt any body.” Behind him both Lilith and Ryder shift awkwardly, but Papyrus doesn’t have time to be concerned about it, “We want to help.”

Lola blinks at him, eyes shocked and wide as her mouth pulls into a soft smile, “Papyrus, can you understand them?”

He can’t take his sockets from the unicorn who’s watching him carefully with haunted, wounded eyes, “Yes.” He whispers back to her, reaching out a hand to offer a touch, his phalange trembling. He can hear Ryder suck in a breath of air, can hear Lilith grabbing at his arm with a clank of heavy armor to keep his mate in place.

The unicorn paws at the ground again, hesitant and unsure before he pressed his snout into Papyrus’s palm, his voice softer now, _help?_

Papyrus nodded as Lola smile excitedly, “Papyrus!” she all but gasped, torn between worry for the unicorns and excitement at his newfound talent, “Speaking to unicorns is rare now, you have to be innocent. No LV at all. I’ve never met anyone who could speak with unicorns.” She gave a huffing little laugh, “I bet Frisk could, but it’s not like we would take her out here on a hunt.”

And, wasn’t that just sad?

Sad that Lola had never _met_ anyone who lacked LV, that she was surprised and in awe of his ability to speak with a creature like unicorns. Papyrus had never thought he was particularly innocent but knew that he wasn’t as dark or vicious as the mages could be, as Sans could be. 

But he wasn’t naïve.

There was a lot to unpack there, things that Papyrus _needed_ to talk to the mages about. The fact they didn’t _know_ any adults who didn’t have LV worried him, a lot.

The fact that Undyne was standing next to Sloan, looking just as curious and uncertain as the mages did raise questions and concerns. Made Papyrus worry, and wonder how Undyne gained LV. Hadn’t it been Sans who dealt the killing blow to the first fallen children?

Questions for later, right now there are a group of unicorns who needed help. He ignores Lola’s gaspy question, reaching back to grasp at her wrist as he nodded to the stallion, “Yes. We’re here to help. We have a healer.”

Those soft, brown eyes look to Lola and snorts. Lola shifts at his back, her other hand grasping at Papyrus’s writs just as tightly. He knows Lola isn’t a healer, not a true one but she _can_ heal and she’s the best they have.

The unicorn paws the ground, his snout still pressed into Papyrus’s hand as dark eyes narrow angrily on Lola. His deep voice rumbling through his skull, _She has LoVe._

Papyrus nods, she does and there’s no point in denying it. There’s no point to make excuses, “She does. She was in the war.”

The unicorn snorts, _Humans always make war. Mages are no different._

Papyrus nods again, “Yes, they are rather blood thirsty.” Behind him Lola’s eyes go wide and Lilith sighs as she drops his face into the palm of her hand. He can hear a curse muttered under her breath that almost sounds like a breathy laugh and maybe he does understand why Sans loves his vicious mate so much. They both have a terrible sense of humor.

“But these blood thirsty humans are good.” Papyrus insists, smiling brightly at the unicorn despite the flat look he’s being given, ignoring Lilith’s dark laugh and Sloan’s curse. He can imagine how wide Lola’s eyes are as she clings to him, the tremble is fine in her hands.

“They are protectors. They are fierce, and cruel and their hands are stained with the blood of their enemies.” He tells the unimpressed unicorn, smiling brightly despite the huffing laughter from Lilith, and Sloan’s dark muttering of “We’re getting stabbed.”

“But they are soaked with the blood of their enemies in an effort to protect the weak and innocent. The helpless. They put themselves in the line of fire, get themselves hurt again and again, bleed for the innocent. They have LV, but they are not bad.” He glanced to the small knot of injured unicorns behind their own warriors before he looks back at the stallion, “We just want to help.”

The stallion hesitates, snorts against Papyrus’s hand and paws at the ground, _They will make this right? They will find those who did this?_

Papyrus nods and doesn’t doubt it. Knows that the moment that Lilith is certain that they will be safe, she will hunt down the poachers and do to them what they did to the unicorns.

He still can’t look at the splattered remains of those innocent creatures, and he hurts for the lives lost and the herd who lost so many.

“They will not let them get away with this.” He told the stallion softly, his voice small and full of hurt, “Lilith will kill them.” There was no hesitation at the truth of it, and he’s glad that Sans isn’t here, he’d want to go with her, “She won’t let them hurt anyone again.”

Lilith isn’t laughing now, she’s looking serious and cold, ready to hunt and when Papyrus glances back at her, she’s next to his mate; he shivers at the massive mage, feeling a coil of unease unspool form his soul. Ryder’s eyes are wall to wall black and he’s so, so cold and just as cruel looking as Lilith’s. It makes Papyrus shiver, but not in the way Ryder usually does.

Usually, Ryder is warmth and love, soft touches and hand holds. Usually, he makes Papyrus shiver with want and anticipation, not dread and unease. He hates that, hates that Ryder looks like the feared warrior he is. A mercenary who would kill without remorse.

He stuffs it in a box for later, for things to talk about when this is all over and done with and waits for the unicorn’s decision.

He snuffs again, and the stallion throws his head back, _Please help._ His massive body sides steps to let Papyrus past, and he gives the stallion’s massive shoulder an affectionate pat before he pulls Lola past the guard. She grips his wrist hard as she’s pulled along, past the stallion and into their inner circle.

The stallion moves back to where he was, standing as an honor guard to keep the other mages away; the moment Lola is past the guard, it was like a flip had been switched and the fear is gone. She has a job to do, and she’s going to do it well.

She darts to the smallest unicorn with the worse injury, a massive gash down the length of her silvery body and the unicorn whines when she presses her soft hands against her dense muscles. Lola’s hands glow softly as the unicorn’s muscles begin to knit back together, not even leaving a scar in the soft fur.

Papyrus sighs softly, knowing it’s going to be okay with the injured, he and Lola will take care of this. There are other, harder, members of their Den that will deal with the poachers.

He turns, looking to Lilith and Ryder with a frown, and shivers again.

Lilith’s eyes are wall to wall black again and crimson snaps at her fingers, but it’s her smile that makes Papyrus’s soul twist. It’s sharp and cruel, showing too much teeth that is more of a baring of her teeth then a sneer.

Next to her, Ryder is still and cold, his hand curled into tight, massive fists, and Papyrus takes an instinctive step back from a massive, high LV mage who is radiating _threat_. Nothing about Ryder reminds Papyrus of his sweet, gentle giant of a mate, and his hands knot in front of him.

Lilith looks up at her brother, that dark, evil smirk grows wider and sharper, “Want to go hunting?” it’s cold and monotone, and for the first time Papyrus can see Lilith in the war. Cold and cruel, taking delight in harming those who struck first, not one to start a fight but finishing it.

Papyrus could see her in a fight, on the battlefield and leading their Den into a bloody battle. He had a hard time equating Lilith as his brother’s soft centred, hard shell, monotone mate with this _killer_. Another facet of who Lilith is, the murderer that she doesn’t think Sans sees, wished that he didn’t see. Didn’t want Papyrus to see either.

There’s no desperation here, no panic to save or protect Sans. No instinct driving her on to step between Sans and a threat, only the hunt and Papyrus can see Lilith is going to enjoy it. She’s going to enjoy what she’s about to do, and he suddenly understands why she’s called Death. Why she is the _consequence_ when action is taken against their Den.

Ryder looks down at his sister with a sneer, “Yes.” It’s a coldly spoken word and everything that makes Ryder his beloved, massive, soft mate is gone and replaced with this cold, cruel warrior that Papyrus isn’t sure he likes.

Sloan turns to glance at them, relaxed and eyes filled with azure magic. She, at least, is still herself and that is something that Papyrus takes comfort in when she calls to her brother and sister, “Take care of each other.”

It’s not be careful, it’s not, don’t kill them, it’s take care of each other.

Ryder says nothing, quietly turns away, shouldering his riffle as Lilith grins at her sister. Papyrus understand how Lilith and Felix can work together so well, deep down, when it matters the most, _they were the same_. Lilith still has that something cruel that makes her react with rage and viciousness. That something that makes her not care to get her hands dirty and coated in blood.

Lilith gives Sloan a two fingered salute before she turned and followed her brother. 

They don’t say goodbye and they don’t address Papyrus, and maybe they can’t right now. His soul twists when they trace away, hunting the poachers who dare harm what is rightfully theirs, and he suddenly feels bile at the back of his throat.

He catches Undyne’s worried gaze, but he turns away just as quickly. There are those he can help today, right now and that’s what he plans on doing. He lays hands on another unicorn, mending the damage done and hopes that when Lilith and Ryder come home, there’s still something to put back together.

-

It’s dark when Papyrus starts to worry about Lilith and Ryder; the moon swallowed by the darkness of the sky leaving the cold winter night with feelings of dread and uncertainty. It was too cold and dark for the herd to move on yet, too dangerous with the poachers still out in the deep snow left from the storm. They were nestled safely in the garage, every car, even the expensive ones, were out in the snow so the unicorns had someplace warm to sleep for the night.

Sloan had no doubt that Lilith and Ryder would be home before daybreak, and Papyrus isn’t sure if he wants to see them or not. He’s almost afraid of _what_ will come back through the door. Yet, he’s antsy and nervous, worried that they’ve been hurt in someway.

Foolish, he knows, but what if?

Papyrus sighs, settling into the chair in the infirmary, back where this horrible day started. He’s feeling a little sad and uncertain, having a hard time to scrub the sight of dismembered unicorns from his mind and can’t stop thinking of the poachers doing that to Ryder.

What if they kill him? Dismembered him? What if they tortured him? 

What if Ryder doesn’t come home at all? Or worse, what if this break’s Ryder’s mind?

With a sigh, Papyrus curls into a ball, pressing his chin to his knee and he glances to Felix. The battle mage is sitting up in bed, watching another movie but he keeps glancing to the door as if expecting Lilith and Ryder to appear out of thin air.

Dark eyes instantly go back to his tablet to pretend to watch the movie, but he’s too tense and still, hating that he’s here laid up. Papyrus doesn’t doubt that if he was well enough, Felix would be out there hunting with Lilith and Ryder, doing the Angel knew what to bad, bad people.

Papyrus doesn’t want to know what they’re doing, his soul twisting with dread. He’s never wanted to know what they did in the war, and Lilith’s too cruel smile only gave a hint of what she was capable of. He saw Ryder go ice cold, dead inside and wondered the same thing.

Glancing to Sans, he’s curled in the windowsill, dull white eye lights watching outside to the driveway, waiting for his _~~evil, cruel, blood thirsty~~_ mate to come home. A wet cough rattles through his chest, sweat beads at his forehead and excess magic pools hotly at his joints but he refuses to sleep. 

He wants to wait up for Lilith, and part of Papyrus is glad to see that Sans had enough gumption to push through for something. For someone.

He knows Lilith would do the same for him, would always go to bat for him, would kill for him; that the _~~evil, cruel, blood thirty~~_ battle mage loves his brother deeply. She goes all soft and gooey for Sans, all gentle touches and velvety smiles, and Papyrus doesn’t worry about his brother in Lilith’s capable hands.

Even if her LV worries him.

It’s the same as Ryder, and it makes his soul shiver to suddenly have his violent past shoved into his face. It shouldn’t matter, _~~it doesn’t!,~~_ but it makes Papyrus…worry.

He sighs, and tires to settle into the seat, waiting for Ryder and Lilith come home. He’s worried and he wants Ryder to be here with him. He wants to be held by his big, warm mate who would run his massive hands down his spine to sooth his worry. He wants Ryder to be here to talk to, to tell him what happened in the war. He wants the truth, spoken in warm, hushed voices from Ryder.

He settles in the chair, thinks about Frisk having a sleep over with Undyne and Alphys, falling asleep watching horror movies. He thinks of Lola and Sloan, waiting for the two missing mages to come home, sitting around the kitchen table with hot cups of tea.

He thinks of the poor unicorns, afraid in the garage, waiting for the poachers to be dealt with so they could safely move along.

Sans suddenly jerks, hands pressed to the glass that draw Papyrus and Felix’s attention and there’s a real smile playing at Sans’s mouth for the first time in days, “They’re home.” He rasps, sounding congested and sick, but delighted.

Papyrus feels his non-existent stomach twist with dread. He doesn’t know what to expect, what is coming home to him. Is it Ryder, or is it Famine?

Felix sighs, relaxes into the bed, his smirk amused and light, relieved that his brother and sister are home, “About time.” He shrugs as if he doesn’t care, “They’re late as fuck.” Sans grunts, eye-lights tracking his mate as they walked up the driveways, and that horrible anxiousness takes root in his soul.

“Bitch better have me a head.” Felix mutters sarcastically, his smirk still curling at the corner of his mouth.

Sans squints down to the driveway, his permi-grin looking strained as he almost frowns, “She’s got a sack.”

Felix startles, and Papyrus hates that fact, hates that Lilith probably has a head in that stupid sack. It makes Papyrus pull in a little, trying not to worry about their mental health.

Felix grins, it’s slow to grow and his eyes sparkle with magic he can’t afford to spend, “No shit?”

Sans nods, and Papyrus can pinpoint the moment that he can’t see Lilith anymore; his shoulders droop a little, and he turns to sit in the bay window, looking eagerly to the door. He knows that Lilith will come for him first and foremost, everything else will be secondary right now.

Precious minutes tick away, and Papyrus can see his brother practically vibrate with excitement despite how pale his bones look, how sick he looks. He doesn’t doubt for a moment, that even if she’s lost to the darkness of her vice, Lilith will care for Sans. She’s too in love with him not too.

Papyrus knows that Sans will always bring her back.

Felix looks up and Sans brightens when they hear footsteps, and Papyrus knows its Lilith by the gait, the smaller stride even if there’s a skip before Lilith swings around the corner. She slips in the room with a cruel grin and dark eyes that are solid black, and she looks like she was in a blood bath.

There are bloody boot prints even this far into the compound behind her, its clotted in her hair and over her skin even as it _drips_ off her. Papyrus swallows back a gag at the stench of blood as Sans goes still; it doesn’t look like any of the blood is _hers_.

She’s still, like a creature from another realm. A darker one where violence is the norm and the lack of light makes Papyrus shiver.

Felix has fallen still as well, dark eyes following his sister even as his smirk falls a little, “Hey Lilith.” He blinks at her a little, “You good?”

Lilith blinks back at him, before her mouth pulls into a grisly smile, blood coating her like that character from the movie Carrie, “Fine.” Her voice is monotone and dead, and it makes Felix shift nervously in his cot.

Lilith blinks again, holding out a bag to her brother over his legs. The burlap is soaked in dark blood and drips down to splatter against his white blanket, “Brought you something back.”

Taking the bag, Felix opens it up, not being bothered by the blood that covers his hands, and snorts when he looks inside as Lilith shifts her weight. She crosses her arms, looking dark and gory and smug as Felix speaks, “Is that William?”

“Was.” Lilith said in that same, eery voice and she blinked those solid black eyes at him, “Promised it would be whole this time.”

Felix made a small _huh_ , before his dark grin grew to match Lilith’s, “Thanks Lili, that so sweet.” He tells her brightly, dropping the severed head into the Nether, “We should drop it off to his Den’s front door.”

Lilith’s head tilts, going a little too far to the left, looking more like a demon then he was, “Would send a message.”

Felix snorts, settling back into his cot, “Yeah, stay the fuck out.” He licks his fingers clean with a dark grin before glancing to Sans, “Death, your little bone man is looking for affection I think.”

Those dark, cruel eyes swing to Sans, the vicious smirk falls gradually, and she blinks slowly at her mate, “Sans?” her voice almost sounds like herself, the smallest amount of shock has crept into her voice.

Sans has frozen where he was by the window, his sockets gone dark and he’s looking her up and down, taking in the amount of blood. He’s looking for injuries, and he sags when he finds none. His shoulders loosen when he slides off the bay window, his eye lights coming back brightly, “Heya Evil Mage, you good?”

She blinks at him again, and she takes a step back as Sans takes a step forward. Lilith swallows hard, all expression falls from her face again and she looks like she’s ready to bolt. Felix doesn’t move to stop her, and Sans lifts his hands as if to pacify her, “Easy. Easy Evil Mage, you’re okay.”

That makes her pause, and Papyrus finds himself leaning forward to watch his brother, looking for Sans’s ticks when dealing with high LV mages. Sans takes a step forward, unafraid, his expression soft, and Lilith looks more worried about being too near him then Sans does, but she keeps her feet planted.

Sans takes another step, then another until he can reach up for her hands, “The unicorns are safe?”

Lilith nods, a little dull and dazed, and Sans grins up at her, “Good girl.” Papyrus frowns, he doesn’t know how to feel about that, but Sans draws her down, “I knew you’d keep us safe.” He voice doesn’t waiver despite how sick he still sounds. He’s confident and sure when his arms wrap around her rips, splattered in blood or not, and he presses his face into her torso.

Lilith’s arms go slowly around him, smearing blood onto his white t-shirt burying her face into his shoulder, softening a little. Sans doesn’t seem to mind the blood, only sighs and cuddles in, “Glad your safe.” He doesn’t say okay, he knows she’s not, but she will be.

Lilith nodded, her eyes falling shut as she clung to Sans, “I’ll always come home to you love.” It sounds more like herself a little more, but that darkness didn’t fade from her eyes.

Sans sighs and relaxed, going nearly limp in her arms, “Lets go shower, you’re covered in blood and you’re filthy.”

Lilith snorts, and Papyrus can see his brother smirking at the joke he knows is coming, “You like it when I’m filthy.”

Papyrus snorts, and he sees Sans snuggle into his mate with a small laugh, “No this filthy.” Sans pushes her back and presses his mouth to hers in a deep kiss and Papyrus feels his sockets widen when he sees Sans deepen it, the flash of blue of his tongue disappear into her mouth. He doesn’t flinch when she reaches up to cup Sans’s cheek, smearing blood across his face.

He doesn’t seem to mind, and Papyrus watches Lilith relax under his touch. Her shoulders go loose, and the tension uncoils from her tightly wound frame when she breaks their kiss to whisper against his shoulder, “Let’s go shower love.”

Her eyes are still wall to wall black, but the edge in her position, the aura of a walking threat that she was oozing has gone. Leaving only Lilith, soaked in the blood of their enemies and in the arms of her lover.

When they leave, Lilith simply stands and carries Sans from the infirmary; he clings to her and buries his face into her shoulder looking like he wouldn’t rather be any where else in the world. 

They disappear, swallowed by the darkness of the compound, and Papyrus doesn’t doubt they’ll be okay. He can’t help his own sockets wandering to the inky darkness, wringing his hands in worry, waiting. Just waiting.

“Ryder likes to clean up. I would guess he’s downstairs.” Felix says suddenly as he turns off his movie, “Gotta track the illusion mage down Paps. He’s gonna be nervous as fuck right now.”

Papyrus blinks at Felix, frowning a little, before he nods. He gets it, a little, knows that Ryder would have preferred Papyrus not see him in this state.

Papyrus stands, not seeing Felix’s too blank gaze to go find his way ward mate.

-  
Papyrus finds Ryder exactly where Felix says he should be; he’s downstairs in the kitchen. He can hear water running, and the sounds of scrubbing. There are bloody boot prints from the front door, one trailing to the stairs and the other to the kitchen.

The compound is silent and dark, spooky in a way that Papyrus hasn’t seen before. The life from their home is gone, leaving behind a cold feeling that leaves him with a shiver down his spine and the heebie-jeebies.

His skeletal feet clank awkwardly against the tile and it sounds too loud in the eerie silence of their home, masked only by the sound of running water.

Ryder has his back to him, when Papyrus comes into the kitchen. He’s crowded around the sink, shoulders hunched up near his ears and his arms move as he scrubs. Papyrus feels himself swallow, it’s dry and his throat clicks, the soft sound making Ryder still at the sink.

Even from behind, he’s splattered with blood, his short blonde hair is matted with it, its up to his elbows and still drips off him in soft little splats. When he does speak, Papyrus knows he’s doesn’t realize it’s him at his back, “The bag has the important parts.” Ryder’s voice is cold and dead, utterly emotionless and his accent is thicker with it. 

“I asked, but the unicorns don’t want the parts back.” That hallow, dead voice make’s Papyrus glance down to the table and the blood socked sack. Silvery liquid is pooling beneath it, sticky and cold, and Papyrus feels dread twist is soul.

It’s a horrible thing to kill a unicorn, even if their bodies parts are concentrated magic used in spells and potions. 

“All the horns are there, bones and blood. We hid the larger pieces in the shed so Frisk won’t see in the morning, but Lilith and I will strip them down to usable parts.” Ryder hasn’t turned around yet, still scrubbing his massive hands with a vengeance.

Papyrus doesn’t want to know what ‘usable parts’ actually means or how Ryder plans on stripping them down. He wrings his hands nervously, afraid of what he should say to his mate.

Ryder sighs, and begins to turn, “I’m fine Sloan, it wasn’t that ba…” Ryder trails off and goes silence as he takes in Papyrus’s slim form and nervous energy, “Oh.” His voice goes soft, taking in his mates pretty, pale bones and soft face.

Ryder looks like he stepped out of a horror set in comparison; huge and scared, the only clean part of him is his hands from where he obsessively scrubbed himself clean. The rest of him is soaked in blood, just as much as Lilith, the violence they committed written on every inch of their skin.

His eyes are still wall to wall black with his anger, but they soften to bright orange when Ryder sees Papyrus before horror sets in. It’s the same horror that Papyrus mirrors at him, wide eyed shock and terror.

Working is mouth, Ryder tries to move slowly, reaching for his mate in soaking, soapy hands that are the only clean part of him, “Papyrus.” His voice is soft and hopeful, his name said like a prayer but Papyrus flinches back.

There’s so much blood, so much. He can almost remember the pain himself, from resets a long time ago, a pain in his throat and blood before he could taste dust. He tries to shake the half memory away, but the damage has been done.

There’s a flash of hurt on Ryder’s face, one that has him backing away from Papyrus with shame in his eyes before he closes off all emotions, building up the wall to keep everyone away in a heartbeat. He curls his hand away, pulling it to his chest as thought Papyrus has tried to bite as the last bricks are put back in place and Ryder’s face goes blank.

The mages are good at that, Papyrus thinks distantly with a cloud of hurt in his soul, not feeling things that should hurt them. Things that would have crippled lesser people.

Ryder looks down, cold and distant, picking at his clean fingers before he sighed softly. He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, still unable to look up at Papyrus, before his teeth snap shut together.

Ryder sighs, and Papyrus feels something akin to dread fill his soul just as Ryder disappears. Vanishes into thin air, leaving Papyrus alone with blood in the kitchen, his own hurt, the twisting feelings and the bag of unicorn horns that the herd didn’t want back.

Looking down, his liquid fills his sockets and Papyrus feels like he failed a very important test, a failure that disappointed Ryder.

_~~After all, why would Ryder like-like someone like him? Someone who was not so great and didn’t have many friends. Why would someone like Ryder like someone like Papyrus?~~ _

He doesn’t know what to do; it feels like those horrible months when Sans was gone and Lilith was trapped in the void, alone and helpless in a dark, cold place with no one to turn too. Trapped defenceless against his own dark thoughts until Sloan comes to collect the unicorn horns that Papyrus doesn’t want to think about. 

Sloan doesn’t say anything, carefully avoids the blood and is kind enough to get Papyrus some tea and leaves him to sort out his tattered thoughts and come to terms with the things he has seen. The truths that he can no longer deny, and he has to wonder.

Would he have reacted any different?


	9. Overload

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus isn't okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Dear Readers, 
> 
> This one is a little late, but I was off on vacation and didn't have much time to write. No warnings really in this one. 
> 
> I hope you are all safe and well, and practicing social distancing. If you want, come on and follow me on Twitter at @Acidflames to chat fandom. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_It was the sound of his own bones snapping, wet with magic that woke him, pain bloomed hot and heavy from his wrist. It was enough to snap him wide awake from a restless sleep, the dark and damp cell no different then when he passed out._

_He managed to swallow back the scream, even dazed and disoriented, his mind foggy with sleep, he took a deep breath of damp, humid air. His chest ached with the heavy, thick magic from illness. He turned dull, dim eye-lights up to Chara, and he managed to grin at her disappointed frown even as she squeezed the shattered bones of his wrist._

_“I’ll find something to make you scream.” He told him, her smirk no less wide, her eyes no less cruel, glowing with the power of a soul that did not belong to her. Her smirk widened, “Maybe I’ll feed you your brother’s dust. Or better yet, maybe I’ll find your little girlfriend from the void and feed you her heart.”_

_Its not the first time Sans has received this threat. He hardly reacts to it anymore. Instead he grins wider and prepares for the pain that will surely come with the sass he is going to give Chara._

_The words are lost to the pain, the memory of pain, but as Sans takes the beating, he still thinks its worth it to hear the snarl of frustration from Chara. To see her snap, and break down, the stolen magic that held her together fall apart into a goopy mess, was_ worth it _._

Jerking awake, Sans swallows down the cry of pain that threatens to slip past his clenched teeth as phantom pain made the wrist on his control hand twinge in pain. It didn’t hurt, not really, not with Lola’s healing touch that soothed away the hurt and mended bones. It was just, that sometimes, his body remembered that pain. Remembered the feeling of broken bones and things done worse to his body then simply broken bones and being sick usually made it worse.

Breathing slowly through his nose, like Dr. Tracy taught him to help calm himself down, Sans forced himself to relax. Bone by bone, starting with the tips of his digits all the way to his core; it was a slow, long process.

He tried to ignore the tears in his sockets when he finally blinked them open, tried to pretend that they weren’t streaming down his face, leaving wet, tacky magic and a headache.

The headache, he told himself, was clearly from being sick and not an emotional overload caused by a nightmare.

He coughed, wet and harsh, regretting the action immediately, his chest hurt and felt thick with spoiled magic that his body was trying to dislodge. It brought more tears to his sockets, feeling sick and hurt and upset, silently craving his mate or his brother. Someone to hold him for just a little while.

He’s still coughing hard and crying when the door to his room opens, and Lilith is a blur of red hair, pale skin and black armor with the liquid in his socket, taking comfort when he feels her magical essence brush against his own.

He sees her, sort of, freeze up at seeing him chocking on his own magic and sure, even steps bring her to him. Her strong hands are gentle on his bones, soft and reassuring as she helps him sit up, her hand soft on his spine, rubbing in comforting little circles.

“You’re okay love, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” She whispers to him, her voice hushed and soft, unusual for her to have much inflection in her voice.

It takes longer then he wants to admit catching his breath, even as he coughs and gags on nothing, and flaps his hand helplessly at her when he’s sure he’s going to up-chuck, she doesn’t flinch. Lilith scoops the bucket up, shoves it between his knees and guides his head down just in case he does vomit from coughing too hard. 

She’s still and solid beside him, her hands on his body soft as he coughs until he can catch his breath, “Thanks.” It sounds like he swallowed gravel, rough and painful, and he’s still blinking too heavily to clear his sockets.

Lilith gives him a real smile, hers are getting a little brighter the longer he knows her, and she reaches up to touch his cheek, brushing away tears, “No problem Sans.” He leans into her touch, hoping she doesn’t catch on that they aren’t only from him having a coughing fit.

Sockets down turned, smile a little strained, Lilith catches on near instantly that something wrong and that smile fades, “What’s wrong.”

It’s not so much a question as it is a fearful statement, even if her voice is gentle and Sans finds himself frowning at how quickly she knows. He _used to_ be good at hiding how upset he was about things, not sharing his own feelings.

“It’s nothing Lilith,” and she frowns at the blatant lie, but Sans knows that she wont push if she knows he’s really upset about something. She will give him the space he needs before he talks to her, if he will. Sans knows she isn’t stupid, knows that she will be worried and knows that she’s already in heavy battle armor so something’s gone awry.

She doesn’t need another thing to worry over.

“It’s just a nightmare.” He admits that much, not bothering to go into the gory details with Lilith and upset her about things that couldn’t be changed.

Still, she frowns at him, concerned and hesitant, torn between duty to him and whoever else needed her. Dark eyes glance to the door, worried and quick, before darting back to him and Sans _knows_ that if he asks, she’ll choose him.

Part of him wants her too, wants her to climb in bed with him and hold him when he’s shaken from a nightmare, and tell him it’s alright. The bigger, stronger part of him shakes it off and knows she has as much a duty to her people and Coven as she does to him, and more then once has she forsaken that duty for him.

He takes her hand quickly and gives it a squeeze to hide he tremble in his fingers. She frowns at him, but he manages to grin shallowly at her, “I’m okay.” He doesn’t believe that himself, but he needs her to believe him enough to not hold her back.

“Sans.” Her voice is harder, eyes flash crimson with uncertainty, and he’s quick to reassure before she continues.

“I promise. I’m okay.” White eye-lights glance to her heavy, dark armor; he hasn’t seen it look like this, more black then silver, more angular and aggressive looking, her sash more the color of blood. Everything about his mate screams threat, “What’s with the space marine suit?”

Lilith glances down at her chest plate, pale face going red as she buys fairly easily into the distraction with a put-upon sigh. Sans knows he won’t get away with not talking about his fear so easily, but maybe later, when Lilith isn’t looking like she’s heading off to war.

“Madelyn’s Den wants to _parlay_ with our Coven leaders.” She rolls her eyes, and Sans can hear the quotation marks around the word parlay, “So they’ve asked if Sloan, Ryder and myself will attend to help defend the Coven should it come to that.”

She rolls her eyes, and Sans feels his grin crawling up his face, his twisting soul soothing a little, “It’s because you’re kinda a bad ass.” He mock whispers. 

He takes delight in the blush that tints Lilith’s pretty face, and she picks at her gauntlet, “I’m not.” She tries, but Sans takes non of it.

“Evil Mage,” the nick name is used deliberately, “You’re literally the scariest thing on the surface.” There’s a moment that her face twists with hurt, one that Sans is quick to sooth. It’s easier to ignore his own hurt when he can focus on Lilith’s, “And you’re _my_ scariest thing on the surface.”

Sans knows he’s won when that bashful tint of pink returns and is delighted to see this soft underbelly of hers when no ne else is around. So few people get to see this shyness, this bashfulness in her and it surges something inside Sans. Something soft and protective, something possessive over this softness.

His mate is so cool.

“Soooo,” Sans continues, “Of course they want you there.” He pauses, squeezes her hand, “You’ll be careful?”

The stubborn fearful line in her shoulders fell and loosened, and with a small grin nods, “Yeah, I’ll be careful.” He knows that’s a silly thing to ask that of her when just a few days ago she strut home soaked in the blood of her enemies, and he had no doubt what she did that night.

Yet, she knows that he needs that promise as much as she needs to give it, it made them both feel better. Sans gives her a little nod, and the tightness in his soul unwinds, and he leans up to press a kiss to her mouth, “Thanks Lilith. Watch your back, don’t get hurt.”

She smiles into their soft kiss, and she presses another, deeper kiss, soft and loving. Sans sighs as they share a breath, “Love you.”

“Love you too.” She whispers back, mouth soft against his teeth, “Paps will be by later to check on you. Stay in bed and get some sleep.”

Sans snorts, “I’m great in bed, I can stay here all day.”

Lilith snorts, mutters _cheeky_ against his skull, before pulling away. She sets the bucket back onto the floor and encourages him to lay back down. He goes willingly, curling up in their big, warm bed and wishes Lilith good luck on this newest catastrophe and falls asleep with the secure knowledge that Lilith really is the scariest person on the surface.

She would be fine and be home by nightfall.

-

It’s not long when Sans distantly hears the door to his bedroom click open, barely shifts awake with the creek of the door opening and barely hears the soft patter of boney feet against the carpet. He groans, shifts more awake when he feels the bed dip and a gangly, boney body shifting under the blanket next to him.

Sans shifts, groans again and blinks open dull sockets. The world around him is blurry with sleep, but there really can only be a single person with a solid white skull settling in next to him, “Wha…Paps?” his voice is still raw and thick, his words slurring, “Wha-what’s wrong?” 

Papyrus hesitates, as if that will hide anything from San, and gives him a single shoulder shrug, “Nothing brother.” His voice is quiet and sad, and a red flag if Sans ever heard one.

Blinking sockets that felt like sandpaper, Sans shifted over into his brother’s space, pressing his smaller frame into Papyrus’s long, lanky one, “What’s wrong Paps?”

Papyrus shrugged, arms going around Sans as he buried his face into the top of his skull. Sans doesn’t ask again, but his brother’s shoulders shake and heave with silent sobs and Sans wraps his own arms around his little brother.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t have to, just gives Papyrus the space to not be alright for once and talk when he’s ready to. It takes longer then Sans would have put money on, when his brother’s soft weeping fades back into nothingness when his watery voice finally warbles, “Sans?”

“Yeah bro?” all lazy nonchalant, as if his brother isn’t sobbing in his arms. As if his soul hasn’t started to roil in growing anger at what ever has hurt his brother. Although Sans does have an idea, even if he doesn’t like it. Even if he can’t really help.

Papyrus hesitates again, and Sans can nearly hear his soul break with such uncertainty, “How do you…how did you accept Lilith? As. Well. She’s a little murdery.”

His voice is small and hurt, and clings to Sans with long fingers like he had when they had been children alone underground. Some of the anger dilutes a little, there isn’t anyone to blame, not really. A difference in morality, a difference in world views that was suddenly shoved in his brothers face in the worse, most violent way possible.

It wasn’t just that Lilith and Ryder had come home after disposing of humans that were poaching unicorns, they had returned home soaked in blood, with no a scratch on either of them.

Sans sighs, its heavy when he thinks of his brother, always seeing the _best_ in everyone, seeing Ryder and Lilith like that. Sans could roll with the punches, knew how cruel some could be and sometimes there was only one answer to that cruelty, “I dunno Papyrus.” His own voice is small, “I guess I just see the best in her. The meaning behind what she does. She isn’t like Chara.” He shivers at the name, “She doesn’t hurt for sport or pleasure.”

Although, if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t doubt she enjoyed what she did with the poachers, had to learn how to like it after ages of war, “The mages have to fight _so_ hard to go against their instinct. _Lilith_ fights against her instinct every day to do better. To be better, to be the people that they hope to be. The kind of people that they deserve to be. The kind of person that wants to be with me.”

Papyrus sniffs, wet and sad sounding, so Sans continues, “They’re good people Paps. They just do bad things sometimes, to keep us safe. So that we,” Sans pauses and gives his brother a squeeze, “So that I don’t have to do it. They’re sin eaters.”

That draws another small, wet noise from Papyrus and Sans rubs his back, “You should talk to Ryder Paps. I’m willing to bet that he’s just as sad as you are.”

“I’m afraid to talk to him.” Papyrus sounds miserable, and it twists Sans’s soul, “What if I don’t like who he is? Really is, under that kindness?”

Sans gives his brother another squeeze, “Paps, do you like Lilith?”

Papyrus hesitates, “Well. Yes. Yes of course I do. She saved you and protected you. She’s kind, and brave.”

Sans chuckled, still thick with sickness, “Yeah, Lili’s pretty cool.” He sighs, grins that soft, gooey smile when he thinks about his mate, “But Ryder’s no different. He’s just as kind and brave.” Sans hesitates, “There’s just as much blood on his hands as there is on Lilith’s. The war was…a thing that happened. Their whole purpose now is to protect the people in their territory, and they try to do the right thing. Even when it’s a bad thing.” He doesn’t think he’s explaining this well, “I don’t think they’re bloodthirsty, but they certainly won’t hesitate to act.” 

Papyrus nods, his voice watery and sad, “Ryder won’t talk to me. What if he wont ever again? What if he’s avoiding me?” his voice gets impossibly smaller, “What if he doesn’t like me anymore? Or…Sans what if I don’t like him anymore?”

Sans feels another sigh rising but swallows it back, “Well. You won’t know until you talk to him. But Paps,” Sans hesitates again, “Don’t stay with him if you don’t think you can get past this, that’s not fair to you or Ryder. He can’t change who is he or what he’s done. What he will have to do in defense of the Den and Coven.” Sans is surprised how firm he manages to stay, despite how his brother trembles, and it’s the first time in a long time that Sans feels like the older brother again.

Papyrus nods, face still tucked into the top of his skull, “Okay.”

Sans hates that smallness and hurt in his brother’s tone, “Papyrus, don’t forget. You’ll always have me. No matter what, I will always be here for you. I’ll always be your big bro.”

Papyrus tries, and fails, to swallow back the sob a second time, “Okay.”

This time, Sans can’t hold back the sigh and knows there’s no way to lessen heart break. This is between Papyrus and Ryder, and as much as Sans wants to shake them both, it won’t do much good.

“Can I stay with you today?” its asked softly, sadly and Papyrus sounds like he’s expecting to be pitched out of the room. Sans silently curses the people of Snowdin for making his brother so alienated, always expecting to be forgotten about.

“Of course Paps. We can nap until Lilith gets home.” 

Papyrus nods, “Thank you Sans.” He says softly, “Your laziness always brings me comfort with it’s stability.”

Sans blinks and snorts at his brother, “Any time bro.”

They settle in, waiting for the mages to return home, and if Papyrus falls into an emotionally drained sleep, Sans isn’t going to judge him for it.

Is not like he can do anything else.

-

Lilith is exhausted when she finally comes home, her magic falling off her body in a poof of smoke that pools heavily at her feet. She walks through it, kicking up star dust and magic and rubs sleep from her eyes.

Its late, later then she wanted to be home, frowning at that thought. She’s been doing that a lot lately, staying away longer and later then she wanted to. Getting tied up in Coven events and dramas when before she hardly left her own territory.

Lilith shrugged it off. Things happened, and now she had Sans. No amount of drama or fighting would change that, ever. Sans was a bright spot in her life, something that she didn’t think she’d ever have or even deserved.

Cracking her neck, she tried to loosen the stress that liked to settle there, and her frown deepened. Ryder had been distant and quiet the whole trip, and she didn’t need Sloan’s soul trait to see that he was clearly upset. That he had been avoiding Papyrus since the whole thing with the poachers went down was a hint at his emotional well being.

Rubbing the back of her head, Lilith stifled a yawn as she came up to her room; she hoped that they could sort things out between them. Paps was good for Ryder, and vice versa but Lilith was the first to acknowledge that not everything worked out how you hoped it would.

That sometimes, people just didn’t jell well together and made better friends. Fate knew she’d seen it enough with Felix, saw him get his heart broken more then once and always hoped to not see it again.

With a yawn, Lilith came into the room she shared with Sans, ready to curl up beside her mate only to freeze when she came into their room. Papyrus was asleep on his back, sprawled out and snoring softly next to Sans, who himself was curled on his side.

Pale orange magic created streaks of tears, tacky on Papyrus’s face, and Lilith feels a pang as she relaxes, closing the door behind her.

Ryder wasn’t the only one who was hurting in all this, that Papyrus had been shocked by the truth that was cruelly shoved in his face.

It’s a hard thing to swallow to know your dating a warrior, a mage from the Pandora Den. Their reputations were well earned, and there was as much reason that Ryder was called Famine as she was Death.

Things that Lilith still worried about with Sans. Worried that he would wake up one morning and realize that he’s too good for her. She wouldn’t be surprised if it happened, ~~not when it happened,~~ and it would undoubtedly break her heart.

Shaking off those thoughts, Lilith shoved it down into the dark, angry box where all herself doubt lived and _buried_ it.

Crawling into the bed, she tucked herself in behind Sans, curling around him. Sans sighed in his sleep, pressed back into her strong, lithe body and settled back down to sleep. Lilith draped an arm over his resting form, his breathing still heavy with sickness, and her fingers brushed at Papyrus’s arm.

He wouldn’t be alone in all this either. It was a hard, fine line when Den mates fell out with each other, but neither would be left alone to suffer. Papyrus would not be ostracized from the Den, and it would be important for him to know that.

He would always be welcome, and this would always be his home.

For now, Lilith curled into Sans a little tighter, and hoped for the best.


	10. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus and Ryder finally have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurrah! Another chapter! 
> 
> I was able to get this out so quick since I'm in a quarantine and one can only play so much Animal Crossing in a day. 
> 
> Warnings Here: light reference but not in detail to torture during the war/being a POW, indicated rape during the war as a POW, references to murder, references to the murder of children. War is terrible, and terrible things happen.

Skull leaning heavily into his left hand, Papyrus used his right to stir his cereal slowly, misery written in every small sigh and every inch of his ivory bones.

His shoulders were set too high, hunched and ridged, and he felt like someone had drained all the color from the world. Papyrus distantly wondered if this was how Sans had felt underground, when he was sad and hurt, and it suddenly makes sense why his brother slept so often.

Around him, the world moved on despite his misery, almost mocking him with how everyone else seemed to be able to move on with their lives despite how his soul panged and hurt curled tight in his core.

Around the breakfast table the mages all sat; Lola had made pancakes, perfect golden-brown disks that were so light and fluffy they practically melted in your mouth. Creamy butter melted like little golden rays of sunshine off the sides of the pancakes, fresh maple syrup from the local farmers market gently drizzled in perfect allotments over each plate, thick and gooey with sweetness. 

Maple syrup that the farmers had gifted to the mages, to Lilith and Sans, for saving the marketplace and saving lives. Gifted to them for the _good_ things they had done. 

It was a divine breakfast, one fit for royalty and lovingly prepared by Lola to feed their small family; Felix had finally been released from the infirmary, was trying to make up for lost time by annoying Lilith, Sans had picked a side, turning traitor to join Felix in his crusade to irritate his sister. 

Sloan was singing softly along to the radio as she went through reports, triaging what needed to be seen to first and what could wait now that Felix was mobile. Not nearly anywhere back to normal but could at least do simple tasks.

Lola had only just joined them, easily piling two, perfect pancakes on to her plate, settling next to Frisk to enjoy their breakfast, and it all felt like Papyrus’s insides were scraping against his rib cage.

The perfect breakfast tasted like ash and lies, the false happiness that the mages and his brother tried to press on with only served to remind Papyrus how _miserable_ he was. It hurt to see everyone else moving on, living their lives when he seemed to just be stuck.

He didn’t mean to keep glancing up as he stirred his cereal, he really didn’t, but Ryder’s missing presents was like a blow and hard to miss. It wasn’t just because Ryder was massive, easily the largest mage in the Den, but the room seemed to be lacking somehow. Like someone had taken away the sun and expected no one to notice.

Papyrus noticed.

Twisting his spoon through the soggy Cheerio’s, his frown only deepened, his misery compounding when none of the others said anything about Ryder’s disappearance. No one, not in the five months that they had been on the surface, missed breakfast without being away from their territory. It was the _one_ meal they were all expected to be there for come hell or high water, and Ryder had missed it for _three fucking days._

Papyrus swallows his sigh and tries to push it away. Tries to scold himself on his use of curse words, but he just can’t seem to dredge up the will power to do it. Ryder had been purposefully missing for three days, he clearly wasn’t hurt or dead, the battle mages would be hunting for the culprit if that were the case, so he was in hiding.

Fleeing maybe? Avoiding him all together?

Papyrus didn’t know, but he just wished Ryder would talk to him.

The problem with illusionists, Papyrus grumbled to himself not for the first time since it became abundantly clear that Ryder was avoiding him, was that if they didn’t want to be found, they wouldn’t. The others all swore up and down that he was home, he was around, even little Frisk had promised that Ryder was home, just no where to be found by Papyrus.

It wasn’t fair, not at all when Ryder was the champion of hide and seek and was a black ops saboteur from the war who could turn himself invisible. That wasn’t even a fair line up, how was Papyrus even supposed to find him, never mind talk to him?

Part of Papyrus dimly wondered, how in the name of the Angle could his Coven had thought the illusionist magic as something as weak? How could they have forsaken one of their own, only to be surprised when Ryder was exceptionally good at what he did? How could they treat him like that?

Papyrus pushes it down, tries not to hyper focus on just how good Ryder was at what he did, and the things he did. Tried not to think about him scrubbing blood off his hands at night, tries not to think of dead unicorns either.

Sloan sighs suddenly, standing to clear plates when her musical voice calls out, “Okay Frisk, its time to get ready for school.”

The young mage looks up at her sister and beams. Her little head nods yes, and she hops down from her chair to rush upstairs to brush her teeth. Papyrus smiles fondly at her, the good kid that she is, and knows that she’s as safe as she is because of what Ryder does. What all the mages do.

Frisk is a time mage, a rare mutation in the magic and the best kept secret among the Den. Papyrus doubts even the Coven leaders know just what Frisk’s true power is and he does not doubt that if word got out, war for the child would come to their shores. A war that the Pandora Den is trying to prevent, but one that they would all willingly step up to if it meant protecting one of their own and would do horrible things to keep Frisk safe. 

Papyrus gets that, he does. Even when it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Lola stands too, helping Sloan gather dishes, and Papyrus doesn’t realize he’s being set up until Lilith sinks down into the seat to his left, face impassive and neutral and Felix is on his right with a grin that could cut. Sans is across the table from him, grinning that dark little smirk that he has just before he does something, he knows Papyrus isn’t going to like.

He sighs, deep and tired, “I was beginning to wonder,” he mutters sadly into his cereal, “when you three would stage an intervention.” 

Lilith frowns, dark eyes glancing to Sans before she speaks, “Paps. We’re just worried. Ryder’s avoiding you.”

“Like a little bitch.” Felix chimes in, unhelpfully.

“And your sad.” Lilith continues, ignoring her brother, laying a hand on Papyrus’s elbow. The contact sends a spark through him, Lilith is warm and full of magic, just like Ryder. Her magic is so painfully similar that it hurts as much as the loneliness, and it brings tears to his eyes.

His breathing hitches a little, and her face twists into one of hurt, “It’s okay Papyrus, we’re going to help you.”

“How?” he squeezes his sockets shut in a vain attempt to stop the tears, but his voice is watery, and his throat feels thick.

Sans reaches out across the table to shove the soggy cereal out of the way to squeeze at his brother’s forearm, “We’re going to help you track him down.” His voice is unusually gentle, like when Papyrus had bruised his knee when he was a child and a little part of him hates that.

“We’re going to break both of his legs so he can’t run!” Felix chimes in again, ignoring the glares from both Lilith and Sans to continue to grin darkly at Papyrus. His eyes glitter with anticipation and anger, “If my big brother wants to play stupid games, he’s going to get a stupid prize.”

He’s just as angry, his instincts torn between standing by his brother and standing up for Papyrus in a no-win situation.

Using his free hand, Papyrus wipes at his face with a bitter laugh, “Felix, violence isn’t the answer. You can’t always punch your way out of everything.”

Felix snots, his grins still vicious, “Yes I can. If violence isn’t solving your problem, you’re just not using enough of it.”

“That didn’t help you with Madelyn.” Papyrus reminds him, voice watery and hurt, and he takes no pleasure in the stunned look he gets as Felix’s mouth falls open.

“Well,” he doesn’t quite recover, and his smirk isn’t as cruel, “I’m all out of ideas. Papyrus just bitch slapped me, so what do you two got?”

For a long moment, Lilith said nothing, just stared silently at her brother and shook her head at him, “Why are you like this?” she wondered out loud.

Felix shrugged, the smirk slow to climb back up his face, “It’s just part of my charm.” He said lightly with a shrug, fingers drumming on the table, “It’s not like you haven’t done it to me when I needed to be pinned down in one place.” He added lightly.

Lilith’s teeth snap together with a sharp clack, drawing raised bone brows from the skeleton brothers, and irritation thundered over her pale features, “You were hell bound to go on an unsanctioned suicide mission for no good reason.” She spat.

Felix nodded amicably enough, his grin just as sharp, “Right. Of course, cool, cool, cool. And, what about Rodrick?”

The irritation in Lilith’s face twisted into anger and her eyes glowed a fierce crimson, “I was not going to let you cross no man’s land for a fucking booty call.” She hissed between clenched teeth. 

Sans snorted and shook his head at the battle mages, and Papyrus sighed a little unhappily. Their words, not that long ago, would have saddened him, now only gave more insight to how they thought.

“Stupid games, stupid prizes.” Felix added lightly, leaning back into his chair with an airy nonchalance that caused Lilith to sigh and roll her eyes hard, as if she was searching for answers heaven bound. 

“This isn’t actually helping.” Papyrus said, voice thick and watery, and it served to wipe the smirk from Felix’s face. Lilith frowned with a sigh and gave his elbow another squeeze.

“Sorry Paps.” Felix muttered; voice smaller as he picked at his nails.

“It’s alright.” Papyrus cleared his throat, but didn’t dare hope, “So. I assume you have an actual plan then?”

“One that lacks breaking Ryder’s legs? Yes.” Lilith said calmly, the magic from her eyes fading back to dark brown.

Beside Papyrus, Felix snorts, “Breaking legs is plan C. A and B need to fail before we do that.”

“That doesn’t…” Papyrus sighed, “Felix, that doesn’t inspire much hope if breaking Ryder’s legs is plan C. Leg breaking should be plan E, maybe even F at least.”

Felix shrugged, “Eh, stick with what you know.”

“It hopefully won’t get to that Papyrus, but in all honesty, we might have to.” Lilith said a little quieter, “We’ve all something that spooks us, and sometimes….” Lilith hesitates and shrugs a little.

“Sometimes you need your brother and sister to break your legs, so you stop doing dumb shit.” Felix supplies, again cherrful and bright, and it makes Sans sigh.

“But that’s plan C.” Sans is quick to reassure his brother just as concern clouds Papyrus’s face, “We’re going to try something else first.”

Lilith nods, and before Felix can chime in, she pulls a set of metal hand cuffs from her inventory and gently places them on the table; the new inventories were in the mages watches, given to them by Alphas as mostly a thank you.

Partly because Felix had seen Frisk’s and had harassed her until she made one for the others as well.

Papyrus blinked at the cold metal on the table, glanced to Lilith then back to the hand cuffs, “Lilith, I don’t know what kind of kinky things you do with my brother, but I don’t know how this will help.”

Sans choked and went bright blue, while beside him Felix laughed. Lilith’s mouth twitched into a smile, “They’re enchanted. Magic suppresser cuffs. It will stop him from turning invisible, for a time. Sloan enchanted them so they’re as strong as they can be, but once we get them on him his magical essence will begin to drain them until he can break free. You’ll have a half hour.”

“A half hour?” Papyrus’s voice is low, the words slow as he doesn’t quite grasp what Lilith is saying.

His throat closes as emotion bubbles up from his soul when she nods, “Yes. A half hour. To talk to him.” She adds slowly.

Papyrus knows that battle mages are dangerous. He’d seen it the first time Lilith followed her baby sister into the underground, hell bent on protecting Frisk. Everything about her screamed threat, her magic and body honed to be a weapon that could be used with horrifying accuracy and efficiency.

He knew that Lilith’s instinct could be triggered at the drop of a hat, that she had a hair trigger and killed with little remorse.

None of that stopped Papyrus from flinging himself into Lilith’s arms with a grateful sob. He felt her go still and tense when he wrapped his boney arms around her as if she expected a blow to follow, and that sent another little pang through Papyrus. She relaxed quickly enough, shoulders lowering as her own arms snaking around his trembling frame to hug him back, “S’okay Paps. We’ll pin him down for you.”

Shivering in Lilith’s arms, he managed to nod as fat, orange tears slipped down his cheeks. Lilith rubbed his back, and Papyrus tried to ignore Felix mutter, “You sure you don’t want us to break his legs.”

He tried to ignore that just as much as he tried to ignore Sans’s rough voice mutter back, “We could bump that up to plan A.”

His brothers were being incredibly unhelpful, but he appreciated the sentiment anyways.

-

Handing over the report to Felix to look through, Ryder tried not to let his emotion show. The brothers walk slowly through the halls of the compound as Felix’s dark brown eyes glanced over the paperwork, a worried frown tugging at his mouth in distaste. In the silence between them, Ryder swallowed his own misery, blinking a little too hard when his mind drifted to ivory bones and a wide, bright smile. 

Four days he’d been avoiding Papyrus now, four long days delaying the inevitable in some desperate bid to hold onto something that didn’t really belong to him. He knew that Papyrus wasn’t his, not really. He was just borrowing that sunshine and now he clung to it like a thief.

“Okay so, what do the Fay want?” Felix asked, slowing to a stop by the stairs near their front door as he frowned at the report.

Burying his turbulent feelings under a layer of cold professionalism, Ryder cleared his throat, “They’re requesting an audience with one of our ambassadors again. Papyrus,” and he’s so proud of himself for not stumbling over his name once he said it out loud, “Made quite an impression on them. They’re requesting him specifically in the next three weeks to further our negotiations for monster rights.”

“Ah-huh.” Felix nodded along with his brother, dark eyes scanning the documents, “And you’re requesting Lilith and I serve as his security team?” he sounds almost bemused, “Little bit of over kill, don’t you think, to send a duo of high LoVe battle mages to peace talks?” 

That makes Ryder shift uneasily, because he knows it’s true. Lilith or Felix alone would be considered over kill, almost a slap in the face to their hosts, with whom they are trying to work out a territory treaty and secure rights for monsters. To send both could be seen as a sign of aggression at best, or a grave insult at worse. A way of saying the mages didn’t trust the Fay to uphold their end of the bargain, and it’s a dangerous thing to slight the Fay.

“You’re Den.” Ryder says instead, insistent, “They would expect Den mates to join their ambassador, you and Lilith would be acceptable bodyguards.”

Felix humms again in that irritating, annoying way he has, “Right.” His smile grows cruel and dark, “’Course, Coven mates could be proper substitute for us.” The thought makes Ryder’s soul grow cold, “The younger, lower LV battle mages would do just as well and wouldn’t have the implications that we don’t trust our gracious hosts.”

Ryder’s eyes flash dangerously, bright orange with bravery magic that is gone just as quickly, “No.” he nearly spits the word, drawing a dark grin from his little brother, and he silently curses himself. He’s given Felix what he wants, and lost this little game he’s gotten himself into, “You and Lilith will be suitable.” He grumbles quietly, trying to cling to that cold armor of professionalism.

The thought of someone other then his Den guarding over Papyrus made his insides feel like ice and his blood boil with anger. No one else would be good enough to watch over his perfect, happy mate, those _children_ that call themselves battle mages wouldn’t be good enough.

No, if he couldn’t do it, _~~he wouldn’t put Papyrus through spending days trapped with him, with what was about to happen, what he was sure was going to happen. He wouldn’t force Papyrus to pay the price for his selfishness, wouldn’t allow him to feel like he did a bad job because Ryder was an unneeded distraction,~~_ then his brother and sister would have to do it for him.

No one else was good enough.

Felix hummed again, closing the folder with a grin that could cut through diamonds, “Right. Well. Why don’t _you_ do it.”

Ryder froze, his impassive face twisting into a glare as his stomach felt like it bottomed out, “Felix.” His brother’s name was growled out, low and rumbling in his chest, and would have served as a warning to any other mage.

Any other, that wasn’t his fucking little brother.

“Hmm?” Felix’s narrow features pulled into one of innocents he was no longer capable of, “Ryder,” his voice was unusually soft, if not almost chastising, “you need to talk to him eventually.”

Yes, yes he did, and he wold, in his own time. He just wanted to cling to that sunlight just a little while longer. Pretend he could keep what did not belong to him just a little while longer, even when his soul doubled in on itself and cried out against the inevitable.

Papyrus saw him at his worse, saw him scrubbing blood off his hands without an ounce of shame and was _afraid_.

In the deepest, darkest parts of him, he wished that Papyrus was as laid back about it as Sans had been. Sans had been unaffected by seeing Lilith soaked in blood, checked her over for injury before they showered, and he fed her. He cared for his mate while she was lost to her the cruelty of her vice, brought her back from her rage better then anyone had before, while Papyrus had feared him.

Ryder squashed those thoughts as viciously as he could. He lov…liked Papyrus because of who he is, not what he could be, how he saw the best in everyone, even blood-soaked mages with a war-torn past. He lo-liked Papyrus because he was good at his core, something Ryder fundamentally didn’t see in himself. 

He swallowed his hurt, buried it deep with his other insecurities to stare impassive at his brother, “And I will.” He said coldly, his thick accent coming out harsher with his irritation, “when I’m ready.”

Felix blinked at him, face still soft and innocent looking, “Huh. That’s too bad.”

Ryder sighed, knowing he was going to regret asking, “What’s too bad?”

“That Paps is ready, and I’m not much caring for seeing him cry.” Felix said lightly, as if one might talk about the weather.

Ryder froze, focusing on the end part of that sentence while completely disregarding the first, “Papyrus has been crying?” he asked softly.

Felix grinned, suddenly dark and his eyes sharp as if he’s won. That’s when Ryder realizes that something was up, that that he was being led into a trap.

He’d forgotten that battle mages hunted in fucking packs.

Sans short cutted with Lilith to their left, trapping Ryder between them and the staircase. He froze as they blocked his escape route to the kitchen, and Felix side stepped, dropping the file to block his exit to the front door.

After that, it happened fast, everything falling into place like dominos, the maneuver well executed in a way that only well bonded battle mages could; Lilith charged the moment she appeared with Sans at her back, dropping her shoulder to catch Ryder around the middle like a line backer, magic powering through her to lift him off his feet and knocking the air from his lungs as she slammed into his solar plexus. She rammed him into the side of the staircase with a thunk, leaving him winded and gasping as Felix snatched his left wrist to cuff it to one of the wooden poles along the side of the staircase.

The cold metal of the cuff shimmered blue, biting against his skin and with growing horror, Ryder felt his magic drain from his body, leaving him disoriented and weak. His legs wobbled like a newborn calf before they gave out from under him as his body was too slow to the adjustment of lacking magic; the battle mages used this as an opportunity. Their hands wrapped around the pole he was cuffed too, Lilith’s over Felix’s, and they chanted a spell together.

Dizzily, Ryder thought he should be impressed as he felt massive amounts of magic wrap around the pole, draining from the battle mages like water being poured from a cup. They must have practiced the strengthening spell to be so in sync. 

His head was still spinning when they quickly stumbled away and out of range of his arms, likely a good thing. Once he didn’t feel sick anymore, he was going to ~~not literally~~ kill the pair of them; they had been smart to layer a strengthening spell over that pole, even without magic, Ryder was a big guy, and his physical power didn’t come from his magic.

He’d have broken that pole with enough determination, which means this was a planned assault.

The fuckers.

Lilith collapsed near Sans, leaning back into his arms panting, Felix falling near her with exhaustion of using magic they were not accustomed to.

“I told you it would work.” Lilith panted, stretched and stood up, recovering quicker then their brother.

Felix lay back, panting hard and limp, managed to grunt at his sister, “Eh. Breaking his legs would have been easier on us.”

Snorting, Lilith mopped the sweat at her forehead away and wiped it on her jeans, “Yeah,” she agreed as Sans stepped around her, his perma-grin a little dower as he stared at Ryder panting hard before white eye-lights glanced up to his mate, “But that would have pissed him off more in the end.”

Felix managed a shrug, still panting hard, “Eh. Hash-tag worth it.”

Ryder’s body adjusted, leaving him feeling weak and _human_ but the dizziness faded, leaving him with a weak ache at his temples with the lack of magic. He felt dull and sore, his knee throbbing lightly without magic to sooth the pain, and he wondered how humans lived like this all the time? So weak and frail, vulnerable to their own body’s failings.

The cuff at his wrist glowed a soft azure, cutting him off from his source of magic from within, and with a sigh Ryder knew that this wasn’t just the battle mages, that fucking Sloan was in on it as well. Lola was likely in on it too, some how, or at least on call if they did have to resort to leg breaking.

Assholes.

Anger lit low in his belly, like hot lead being dropped into his gut, anger that his siblings would conspire against him so readily, force him into a situation he was certain he didn’t want to be in. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what was coming next and panic choked him.

It was easier to hold onto that anger then the panic, he didn’t like the feeling of being vulnerable and helpless. He liked it much less when his siblings were the cause of that disadvantage and sudden lack of magic.

He surged upright suddenly from his slumped position with a snarl, his arm not cuffed to the stair case swinging out in wide sweeps to swat at his brother and sister; Lilith jerked in surprise, taking a step back, pushing Sans further away from him. Felix jumped, his yelp high pitched and childish as he scrambled away, crab walking backwards until he hit his sister’s legs, “Fuck, Ryder!”

“You assholes!” he spat at them like an angry cat, the pole he was cuffed to glowing softly in crimson and gold, and cuff warming against his skin glowing azure, “You’re fucking assholes. You’re all assholes, the lot of you!” 

The three of them blinked at his outburst, eyebrows and bone brows raising in surprise that he, usually so cool, calm and collected, reacted like this before stunned expressions mirrored each other and twisted into pleased amusement.

“You can’t get out, can you?” Sans asked lightly, watching with growing amusement as Ryder struggled to free himself from the tight cuff around his wrist.

“Fuck off.” He snarled, the panic starting to bubble from his gut. He knew what was happening, he just wasn’t ready for it, he wasn’t ready to relinquish his time in the sun just yet even if he’d been hiding from it.

It only made Sans grin widen, and Lilith looked amused rather then offended that he just told her mate to fuck off. He was on borrowed time, no doubt, Lilith’s mercy only going so far, and she was only allowing him to speak to Sans like that because a. their plan worked, and b. what else could he do?

“He can’t.” and he hates that his sister sounds amused by the whole thing, “he never learned how to dislocate his thumbs for such occasions.”

Ryder snarled at them, swallowing his panic to twist back at the wooden pole to pull uselessly at the cuff that gave him no quarter.

“No flexibility in this one.” Felix added, still breathless and tired, still earning himself a snarl from his much larger, yet defenceless brother.

“I hate you.” He sneered at them, and in that brief moment, when rage and panic bubbled from his chest, he almost meant it.

Lilith snorts as she pulls Felix to his feet, slinging his arm over her shoulders when his legs wobble to act as a support, “No you don’t.” she tells him lightly once she’s got Felix steady, “besides, you brought this on yourself.”

Another curse is on the tip of Ryder’s tongue, cruel and useless, but it dies when the front door to the compound opens, and Papyrus steps into the mudroom, sunlight haloing him and his ivory bones gleam. Ryder freezes when he sees Papyrus, and he feels winded again, like he took another shot from Lilith to the solar plexus.

He hadn’t been prepared to see Papyrus yet, wasn’t prepared yet to hear the words that were no doubt about to come, the words that _always_ came. There was a reason that everyone in their Den had been single for so long, long before Frisk dragged their Den into a suicide mission underground to save the monsters. Long before Lilith caught a feeling and fell in love with Sans.

The Pandora Den had earned their reputation of violence and most date mates were looking for just that. All were disappointed to find that blood lust was _not_ they usual stat of being, that offensive action was only ever taken when no other options were given to them, that the Pandora Den _could_ in fact be reasoned with, to a point, barring anyone trying to kill them, their mates or threatening territory. They were disappointed that they could not use that power to as leverage over others, and most relationships fell apart sooner rather then later. 

And individuals like Papyrus? They didn’t want to date mages like him, never him. Never the big, scarred, high LV illusionist that could trick their senses, who had literally no game and couldn’t woo his way out of a paper bag.

Lilith had never cared before Sans; her whole world had been protecting their Den, territory and Frisk. Felix had more flirtation than should be legally aloud in a single being and could sweet talk himself into most people’s beds if he wanted to.

Ryder though? Ryder just wanted to be loved, and he had that. Really had that with Papyrus.

Now, he was about to lose it.

The door closed softly behind Papyrus with a soft click and Ryder flinched with the finality of that sound, dooming Ryder to his fate.

“Here ya go Paps.” Felix’s voice is singsong cheerfully, still exhausted from the use of magic in a way he wasn’t familiar with, “Legs intact and all.” 

Papyrus’s dark sockets found Ryder’s eyes almost instantly, the magic that made up his skull pulling his mouth into a hurt little frown sent a pang through Ryder. He drops his eyes first, grinding his teeth together as he focuses on his knee and how well and truly trapped, he is.

“Thank you, Felix.” Papyrus’s voice is small and hurt, and it feels like a blow to Ryder’s soul. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look at Papyrus and he can’t stop the flinch.

Everyone else is quiet, and Ryder can feel their eyes on him, so he focuses solely on his knee as if he was trying to see through the dark fabric of his jeans. He can almost feel his sins, _~~his great many sins,~~_ crawling up his spine.

He grits his teeth and ignores it. Refuses to feel the panic and anxiousness rising in his throat, and he blinks too hard while he still has the chance to control his emotions.

It’s Lilith who sighs first, one of her hands snaking down to grip at Sans’s hand, her voice is small when she says, “Good luck Paps.” And from the corner of his eyes, he sees Sans short cut them away leaving him alone with Papyrus.

He feels his anxiety spike in a way it never did during the war, and suddenly he’s all alone with the only individual that Ryder had ever loved like he loves Papyrus.

Part of him is thankful that he never told him, it’ll make the breakup easier.

Swallowing hard when Papyrus nears, Ryder tries not to shrink away, forced his spine to straighten and finally lifted his eyes to look at his ~~soon to be ex~~ mate. Ryder’s soul shivers and his heart pangs at the sad look on Papyrus’s face as he sinks down next to Ryder. Close enough to touch, if Ryder wanted to, he doesn’t despite his urge to.

Papyrus sits crossed legged, looking sad and hurt, wearing the dark jeans that hug his bones and the cream turtleneck showing off his ribcage is a wonderful contrast to his deep red scarf. Boney fingers find the end to fiddle with the frayed edges.

“H-Hey.” He finally says, the first words that Papyrus directs to Ryder in four days, since he saw Ryder scrubbing blood off his fingers.

Ryder pauses, shifts uncomfortably before he responds, “Hi.” It’s awkward and stilted, and Ryder wished the ground would open and swallow him whole. He didn’t deserve Papyrus, should never had allowed himself to be so selfish to hold onto someone so wonderful when it inevitably would end up here.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Papyrus doesn’t sugar coat it and he isn’t going to.

Ryder nods, slumping against the wall at his back, his wrist hanging limply and trapping him there, “Sorry.” He admits it, doesn’t bother lying.

His heart squeezes when he hears Papyrus’s breathing hitch, “I wanted to talk to you.”

Ryder sighs, avoiding looking at him, didn’t want to see him sad and hurt, “Sorry.” He says again, small and submissive. He wished this was done and over with and wished one of his siblings would cut him lose so he could so crawl into bed to hide for a while. He knows what comes next.

Ryder braces himself when Papyrus takes a deep breath, like he’s steadying himself before he asks, “Ryder, what happened in the war?”

He startles, not expecting that question, and for a moment it leaves him floored, “What?”

Papyrus looks up, fingers still pulling at his scarf before he steals himself, “What happened in the war? What did _you_ do in the war?”

The question rocks Ryder, and it takes his brain a second to catch up, “Why is that important?” his voice is smaller then ever and full of shame.

“Because I want to hear it from you.” Papyrus presses, swallowing hard, “Please?”

His guts squeeze when Papyrus pleads, his voice soft with unending understanding that makes Ryder squirm, “I uh…I hurt people Paps.”

“I know that.” He says softly, and Ryder wished he would be angry at him, would yell, not this sad, deflated hurt, “But I want to now how. Why?”

Ryder blinked at him before his eyes dropped again, mulling it over and went with the truth, “I earned my call sign Famine after a very short stint as an interrogator. I didn’t…I didn’t have the stomach for it.” He told Papyrus softly, “So I was sent on saboteur and spy missions. I gathered intel, I pulled high asset mages out of prisons.” He paused before adding, “I salted the earth, poisoned water supplies, derailed supply lines. Caused countless deaths of dozens of Dens with starvation, exposure to the elements and poisonings.” He huffed a little bitterly, “which, ironically, doesn’t cause your LV to rise.”

Papyrus doesn’t flinch when Ryder swallows, his throat dry and his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth, “I once pulled Lilith out of a prisoner camp. She’d gotten caught protecting a group of kids, surrendered on their behalf. Half of them were killed before my black ops teams could get into the site. The guards there…” Ryder’s throat closed tightly, grief swelling before he could swallow it back, “They did horrible things to her, to those kids. They…” he can’t relive it, can’t bare to think of the time his sisters healing trait and magic had been stretched so thin that when he did find her, wounds had refused to heal, “I had to carry my baby sister out of a prisoners camp because she couldn’t walk on her own because she tried to keep a group of kids safe. I made every guard there see their own intestines pool at their feet until it broke their minds. There was nothing viable left of any of them, for what they did to Lilith.” 

Ryder went quiet, as did Papyrus, both looking down at the space between them, and Ryder had never felt so alone. Abandoned by his siblings.

“Oh.” Papyrus finally muttered quietly, still fiddling with his scarf, face pulled into sadness and his lithe body hunched in misery.

Ryder sighs, tries to straighten and brace himself, “Listen, Papyrus.” His deep voice is rough like he dragged sandpaper over his throat, but he forces the words out, “you don’t need to do this. I know where this is going.” Papyrus looks up confused, and Ryder’s stomach twists, “It’s okay. This won’t change anything. I…I’ll give you the space you need. I…” his throat thickens, and for a moment he reaches for his magic as if to turn invisible so he can flee.

He mourns the loss of his power and the warm cuff at his wrists feels red hot as it blocks his grab for magic, “I will make sure you’re well protected.” Ryder looks up, forces himself to and his face softens, “I only wish I had a little more time.”

Papyrus blinks at him, his confusion melting into horror and hurt, “Are you breaking up with me?”

Ryder’s brows furrow when Papyrus’s sockets well with orange tears and he blinks hard to stop them from falling, “I…isn’t that why you want to talk to me?” he asked softly.

His heart squeezes and his soul twists in pain when Papyrus sniffles, moping at his face with the back of his hand, “No.” his voice is watery and shaky, “I just want to understand.”

Ryder pauses, not daring to hope, refuses to let that little light into his soul, “Papyrus you’re afraid of me.”   
Papyrus hesitates, squirming with uncertainty, twisting his long fingers together as he looked for the right words. His own throat felt thick, his body tense with mounting grief, “No.” he says with a little more confidence then he feels, despite the throbbing in his soul, “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Papyrus.” Ryder sighs his name, and any scolding words die in this throat when the first traitorous tear slipped down his cheek bone. Ryder can’t help himself, he reaches out with his free hand to gently brush the tear away, touching Papyrus for the first time in four days.

The monster’s breathing hitches, fighting down the sob when he stubbornly insisted, “I’m not afraid of you!”

“Papyrus,” Ryder sighs again, leaving his hand along the side of his skull, massive and heavy, his thumb brushing softly under his socket to smudge away the tears. His accent is thicker as he swallows his emotions, “This is who I am, what I am. I…I’m an illusionist mage from a violent Den, in a violent territory. It’s why our Coven didn’t fight us when we reclaimed our Den’s territory. It’s too big for us to patrol all the time, but it’s so close to anti-mage establishments no one else wanted it. What happened with those poachers wont be the last time. When Lilith killed that human in the market when he tried to shoot Sans, won’t be the last.” Ryder sighed, adding softly, “Sans killing Madelyn? I would be surprised if that’s the last mage he kills. We live in a dangerous territory, with little assistance from the Coven. Our actions must be swift and fierce. Our reputations must be preserved.”

He pauses and sighs, “Sans gets along so well with Lilith because he is like her. Him killing Madelyn, him stepping between a threat and our Den mates, did wonders for his own reputation. He isn’t just ‘Death’s little Bone Friend’.” Ryder rolls his eyes as if he can’t stop himself, and Papyrus can’t help but snort at the pun, “He’s solidified himself as Death’s mate. A creature with which one does not fuck, and that will go a long way with keeping our territory safe. Others will hesitate to come at us through Sans, or monsters in general, if they know at least some are willing to do what ever it takes to survive.”

Ryder looks down, his words stumbling on guilt and shame, “I don’t expect you to be like that Papyrus. There are others who will do the deeds so that you and others like you don’t have to. Innocence people should get the chance to stay innocent. You are, I’m not. As the end of it all, that is fact.”

Sighing sadly, still a little watery, Papyrus clears his throat, trying to keep his words smooth, “You’re wrong” he tells Ryder firmly, drawing startled eyes back to his face, “Protecting the Den and Coven, is what you do. It’s not who you are.”

Those words seemed to startle Ryder, and Papyrus’s soul mourns that he’d never considered that before, “I. I had a lot of time to think, before…before Lilith and Felix came up with the plan to trap you.” He pauses and frowns, “Well. When Lilith came up with the plan that didn’t involve breaking your legs.”

Ryder snorted, silently thanking his sister for allowing cooler heads to prevail in this one as Papyrus went on, “I wasn’t happy…with what I saw that night.” And Ryder shrinks in on himself, moving as if to pull his hand away. Papyrus’s hand shot up, grabbing at his wrist to keep it in place, “I was scared and didn’t understand.” He went on in a rush, holding onto the thick, heavy wrist as Ryder went still.

“I’d never seen…it was the first time…there was so much blood.” He takes a shaky breath in hopes to steady himself, “I’ve never seen the result of such brutality before.” Ryder cringes at his words, but holds still, “and I was afraid of what was happening. I was afraid of what could have happened to you. I was afraid of what happened to those poor unicorns, but Ryder, I was never afraid of you.”

Something tight finally loosens around Ryder’s soul and he’s blinking too hard, “I still don’t know how I’m going to react when this happens again.” And Papyrus isn’t stupid, he knows it will. Knows his mate is a sin eater, the one who does bad things so that others don’t have to, so that nothing bad happens to him, “But, I’ve gotten to know you. You’re like Lilith, your good at your core. You do bad things, so others don’t have to. Or…or having bad things happen to them, like those poor unicorns. Or, my brother. Or…me.” His voice grows smaller with each passing word as Papyrus starts to lose confidence in himself, “I was never afraid of you Ryder.”

This time, its Ryder’s turn to let a stray tear roll down his scared face, dripping down his chin, “You think I’m a good person?” his words are so soft, Papyrus almost misses them.

Still, he nods yes, “I know you’re a good person Ryder. You try so hard, to do a little better each time, that’s what counts.”

His breathing hitches, chest feeling tight despite how his soul starts to sing. No one had ever thought of Ryder was a good person before Papyrus. He was always the stable one, the reliable one. The _boring_ one. Never, the good one. That was Lola, the sweet one, not him. Never him. 

“I don’t… I mean if you don’t, want to break up. I…want to keep trying.” Papyrus told him hesitantly.

Ryder wasn’t sure if his soul or heart were going to explode and kill him first, but his brain just couldn’t seem to accept it. His hands still trembled, and his lower lip quivered as more tears spilled down his face. He managed to nod yes, not trusting his voice.

When Papyrus grinned, his soul throbbed with happiness he hadn’t felt in four, very long days. Chuckling, he wiped the last of his tears away, squaring his shoulders up as if he brushed away the hurt and insecurity like it was nothing, “If I let you go, will you run?” Papyrus asked, eyeing the cuff carefully.

Ryder managed a watery chuckle, “No. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice still rough, but his soul felt lighter.

Papyrus nodded, pushing himself to his knees then into Ryder’s lap to reach over head to unlock the cuff. Magic flowed back into Ryder gently, and he sighed as it eased back into his being, feeling powerful and stable again.

Papyrus didn’t move from where he crowded Ryder in against the banister, taller then him for once and Ryder was fine with that. Thick arms went around Papyrus, pulling him tightly against his body, Papyrus’s face was still wet with magic as he buried it into Ryder’s short blond hair as he clung on tightly.

“I’m sorry.” Ryder whispered into Papyrus’s ribs, “for making you worry. For not talking to you when you needed me too. For not being here.”

Papyrus nodded, “I forgive you.” He whispered into Ryder’s hair, leaning down to press his teeth against his mouth, tasting the silent tears that fell between them, “Shhh it’s alright. It’s okay Ryder. It’ll be okay.”

Skeletal hands were not the greatest for wiping away tears, but the sleeve of his turtleneck worked just fine to mop away the wetness. He doesn’t say anything when Ryder pulls him down, goes willingly into his lap so that Ryder can tuck him into his chest, curling around him. It’s the same motion that Papyrus has seen Lilith do to Sans a hundred different times, but it certainly feels different to be in the centre of a mage trying to mimic a boa constrictor. It’s far more comfortable then he thought, warmer too, and Papyrus has no adversity to cuddling down into Ryder’s large body.

They sit like that for a while, a long while. Long enough that Papyrus can track the end of winter sunlight across the front entrance, and he wonders when the others will be home. He doesn’t give that too much thought, not when he’s finally back in Ryder’s arms and they’re curled on the floor of their home.

It’s a long while before Papyrus says, “Do you know what you _should_ be sorry for?”

He feels Ryder tense and go still around him, so much so that Papyrus thinks he’s stopped breathing, “No?” he offers slowly.

“Not telling me that the Coven was calling Sans, Lilith’s little bone friend.” He tells him lightly.

He feels Ryder relax around him instantly with a snerk, “No one’s had the balls to tell Lilith yet, but Felix has been the main contributor to the Death fell in love with a skeleton jokes that have been making the gossip rounds through our Coven and allies.” Ryder paused and gave Papyrus a little squeeze, “He did it so that it became a joke rather then a scandal. Gossip and information are easier to control when no one thinks its really important.”

Papyrus hummed, nodding, “Still, I’m sure my brother would be delighted.”

Ryder nodded, “No doubt. The jokes will all be stale by the time they reach Lilith.”

“Ah yes, then Sans can serenade her with tired jokes until the end of time.” Papyrus yawned, the words spoken lightly and with no real heat.

Ryder snorted, “Are you saying your brother’s jokes are stale?”

This time it’s Papyrus’s turn to snort, “Hardly, my brother is brilliant when he wants to be. He just enjoys beating a dead horse to the point of no return.”

Ryder huffs a laugh, falling quiet again, clinging to Papyrus a little tighter, “So, are we… are we good?”

Nodding against his mate, Papyrus sighs when he finally feels the last of Ryder’s tension leach from his muscles and sag against the railing at this back, “Yes, we’re good Ryder.”

Ryder nods as well, before he suddenly stands, scooping Papyrus up with the ease, causing Papyrus to laugh a high _Nyeh-heh-heh_ as he clung to his mate’s broad shoulders. Ryder shifted him, looping his arm under his knees and around his shoulders. 

Carrying him to the living room to collapse on the coach, Papyrus didn’t care where Ryder took him, so long as they were together. He cuddled into his big, strong mate, determined to make up for the lost time of four days.

When Ryder relaxed into the couch, his heavy arms going around Papyrus’s slim frame, he knew that he’d have to thank Lilith for not opting for the plan to break both of Ryder’s legs. Cuddling would have been far more difficult with broken bones.

Content, Papyrus settled into Ryder’s massive body and relaxed for the first time in days. He glanced up to Ryder’s scared face, drinking in the sight of his softening features and gentle smile that was directed at him, and he felt a pulse of something warm in his soul.

“I love you.” Was whispered between them, soft and nearly unheard.

Yet, Ryder’s eyes went wide, and his face paled a little before his own, rough voice softly said, “I love you too.” 

Happiness shot through his soul like a bolt of lightning, hot and energizing, and Papyrus grinned when he leaned up to share another soft kiss with his big, scary, squishy mate.


	11. A Typical Friday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It isn't often that Lilith is reminded that Sans isn't human or of the fairy tale folk. 
> 
> It's a typical Friday when she's reminded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Team, 
> 
> I hope you're all staying safe in this time of uncertainty, and make sure you are washing your hands. 
> 
> We have another chapter today, super earlier since I'm in quarantine and have been able to focus on this chapter! 
> 
> Some warnings this chapter; THIS IS A HEAT CHAPTER! There is smut/lemony goodness. Angst and hurt, and past references to Sans's rape in The Ninety Fourth Time but nothing graphic. If sin is not your thing, this maybe a chapter to skip, otherwise, come on and have a read :)

It had started like every other Friday had for the past five months. The routine always started with the mages, Undyne and Papyrus off for their hard morning run, followed by breakfast, seeing Frisk off to school and then tending to the territory. Exercise and training breaks squeezed between all that, and Lilith had managed to get Sans into the routine of coming out for yoga three times a week. 

That steady, calm routine had washed over the mages and monsters that lived in the compound like a well-worn glove, allowing them to fall into the easy pattern that provided some stability to their lives.

Lola and Ryder had made bacon and eggs for breakfast that morning, hot and hardy, and full of far too much grease if anyone had bothered to ask Papyrus. Ryder would listen, and tomorrow they would probably have something several shades healthier; still, the eggs had been sunny side up with yoke that was sunshine yellow, and the bacon had been hot and crispy from the pan. The breakfast had been devoured readily, amongst the singing and laughter of their family. 

Excitement about the upcoming weekend and the warming weather buzzed through out the city of Ebott all day long, warming hearts and souls alike after such a hard, turbulent winter. The injuries sustained to the Den of Mages had finally faded enough for Felix to venture outside further from the compound that was their home, the story of what happened fading slowly from gossip to obscurity as other dramas popped up to distract the citizens and Covens from what transpired.

Madelyn’s Den eventually quieted down, a constant worry lurking in the background, but outright war had been avoided for now. The Covens had come to an agreement that, as an eye for an eye, Felix _almost_ dying carried the same weight as Madelyn dying and the Coven leaders had ordered Madelyn’s Den to stand down. 

There had been some rumblings, but those too had died down in the days after the parlay, leaving a weird twisting anxiousness that hadn’t really gone away, the Pandora Den waiting for them to break with their Coven and act.

The attack never came, and slowly things started to get back to normal; leading, eventually, to a normal, boring Friday afternoon.

With a stretch, Lilith peeled off her leather coat after a day spent outside in the almost warm sun, traveling around Ebott, helping with little tasks before the weeked; coming through the front door of the compound, Sans at her heels as she toed her shoes off, nudging them neatly in line with Papyrus’s and Ryders’s. Sans closed the door behind them with his foot, pulling off his own sneakers the same way, shoving them next to Papyrus’s boots with the side of his foot into a clumpy mess for his brother to bitch at him about later.

Sighing softly, Sans wipes sweat from his brow despite it not being _that_ warm out, and grins as he watches his mate’s lithe body stretch again, her shirt riding up to show off her flat stomach before she moves to hang up her coat and Sans takes the chance to check her out with a smirk.

Fuck, she’s pretty, and it feels like that’s a fact that he’s suddenly remembered as he watches her open the closet door and lean inside; feeling heat crawl up his spine and his soul soften. Her five, eleven frame is all hard muscle and strength that has been honed into perfection, and her black tank top did nothing to hide her well built arms or muscular stomach. Those dark, tight jeans that she had managed to pour herself into hugged her hips to show off her soft…

“Hey,” Lilith sound confused when Sans just sort of stops and stares at her, stilling in the mudroom before her voice is snapping him out of his weird trance, “You with me?”

He blinks at her as she closes the closet door, blowing a dark reddish side bang from her eyes. “Yeah.” He says slowly, shaking off the weird schmoopy feeling that had his soul all a flutter and the heat that suddenly was crawling over his bones, “Yeah sorry, just spaced out there. Must be the spring air.”

She gives him a weird look, eyes narrowing as if she doesn’t quiet believe him before she speaks slowly, “Right.”

He grins even when he feels warmth claw up his throat, and he wonders if he’s getting sick again. Bummer, he just got over being sick and it was just starting to get nice out. _~~When it was nice out, Lilith wore less cloths, and when she hugged him, he felt her warm, soft skin against his bones, and her soft….~~_

He shook his head again, feeling the heat creep up to his temples as he blushed at his weird, invasive thoughts. Still, he grins at Lilith, bright and cherrful, “Sorry Evil Mage, was just a bit of an _air_ head moment.”

The look of concern fades a little, an almost smile toys at the corner of her mouth, so Sans runs with it to reassure that he’s okay, “Honestly, I’ve just got my head up in the clouds.” He tells her lightly, vaguely wondering where those odd thoughts were suddenly coming from.

Lilith snorts, and he grins at her when she thinks he’s funny, “Really, I thought you were always full of hot air.” She tells him lightly as he falls in step with her, and Sans beams up at her, his fangs glinting in the early afternoon light in a way that Sans knows she finds endearing. Lilith’s face goes bashful and red, and Sans wonders what that blush would taste like.

He startles at the thought but is thankful when Lilith doesn’t notice as she slips her arm over his shoulders and he melts against her side with a happy little humm; an advantage, surely, to having a girlfriend taller then you, was getting to tuck oneself flush against her warm side. His shoulders, still covered by his sweater, feel unusually hot with her arm around him, like his bones are scolding, and he curses.

He must be getting sick again.

Lilith slows as they come into the kitchen, her head tilting as she watches him with a small frown, “You sure your good? You’re feeling a little warm.”

Sans snuggles into her side, the odd thought of leaving causes his soul to squeeze in panic and something vicious to rise like a snake ready to strike. Sans gives his head a little shake to clear it, rubbing at his skull, voice low, “Yeah, think I might be getting sick again.”

Lilith’s frown deepens, and he regrets saying anything when she pulls away from him, pressing her wrist to his skull, “You are feeling a little warmer.” She says with infinite gentleness that makes Sans’s soul swell.

She clucks her tongue before she guilds him by his shoulder to the table, where Ryder and Papyrus are pouring over a notebook between them; Sans has a moment of sheer happiness when he sees them together, tightly knit with Papyrus nearly in Ryder’s lap as he points at something in the book. Ryder looks like he’s in heaven, nodding along with what ever Papyrus is pointing at and speaking in a hushed voice. It’s good that they had sorted out their issues, talked it out and it makes Sans proud.

Then, he’s guided to a chair to collapse into and Sans doesn’t fight her; lets her pull it out (heh, pulling out) and guides him down into it.

He feels like he’s forgotten something, something important, but he just can’t quite remember what it is…

Lilith presses a kiss to his skull, brushing a thumb along his mandible and the gentle touch almost has him purring, and he has to catch himself from doing so. Fuck, had he been this sensitive all day? Was he this hot all day, or just on the car ride home? He suddenly couldn’t remember, and he needs to remember something.

“I’m going to get you some water.” Lilith tells him with the gentle strength he adores in her, something shifts inside his soul, unwinds a little with that gentleness, a trust that he knows he’s safe. Safe from what, Sans doesn’t fucking know.

His soul pangs and cries out when she walks away, no further then the kitchen sink to get a glass from the drying wrack, and his chest suddenly throbs. There’s a feeling of growing horror and despair as he feels his soul manifest beneath his t-shirt, hot and wet, and suddenly something dawns on Sans. Something he should have remembered, for all his brilliance.

“Hello brother!” Papyrus chirps at him with his unending cheer, his smile as bright as his eyes, and there’s a splash of pale orange across his cheek bones.

“Hey.” Sans mutters softly, blinking a little dizzily and alarm is starting to creep up along with the heat in his bones.

“So, have you and Lilith prepared!” he asked brightly, and the question makes Ryder’s face turn bright red.

Before Sans can say anything, Lilith turns from the sink, a glass of cold water in her hands that she intends to give to Sans, “Prepare for what?” it’s asked so lightly, so nonchalantly that Sans cringes as the reality of the situation hits him.

“Well.” Papyrus almost sound hesitant, glancing to Sans before turning his attention to Lilith, “Sans’s heat of course.”

Sans makes a distressed little chocking noise the same time that Lilith freezes. He can see her trying to mentally reboot from Papyrus’s words, and all that manages to come out is a very small, “His what?”

Suddenly, a lot of things click, that warm Friday afternoon, and all the signs leading up to this very moment seem glaringly obvious now. The heat in his bones, his clingy protectiveness, the sudden spike in his possessiveness, his want to touch.

_Fuck._

“His… his heat.” Papyrus says even slower, “Did he not…he has maybe a few scant hours left…mine is only a day behind…” Papyrus sounds distressed, annoyed that Sans had forgotten something so _important._

Lilith is still shell shocked, mouth opened in frozen surprise that Ryder had never seen from her before. The sound of glass shattering makes Sans flinch, jerking back to reality, when Lilith finally reboots her brain, “His what!”

She doesn’t sound angry, per-say, but she’s not happy about this latest development. Shocked, dark eyes snap to him suddenly, silently asking, _demanding_ , an explanation. One that Sans, doesn’t really have for her. After all, who the hell forgets about their heat? His was always just after Gyftmas, and a day before Papyrus’s.

_Fuck!_

Sans blinks at her, slow and uncertain, feeling anxiety spike as Lilith continues to stare silently at him with cold, dark eyes that are narrowed into laser focus on him, her mouth pulled into a tight, thin line. The expression makes his soul twist, and he knows he’s fucked up, but he’s having a harder time putting coherent thought together. Heat is starting to climb up his limbs, making them tremble and unreliable.

His mind feels foggy, and his soul aches; Sans catches himself rubbing at his sternum, his soul already dripping with extra magic behind the layer of cloth and it won’t be long until is starts to soak through his shirt. Papyrus was wrong, he doesn’t have hours, he has fucking minutes. 

Want and anxiety spike suddenly hard in Sans’s soul, with an awful cramp, and the heat in his bones reminds him of a time, not so long ago, when someone he thought was his friend injected him with poison to bring on a false heat.

Sans winces, pulling in on himself a little as the anxiety roils through his soul, confusing his need and instinct. Lilith’s face softens, the irritation soothing into worry as her lips part into a soft O of surprise when he groans in pain.

“Sans?” his name is soft on her lips, and would be comforting at any other time, usually makes him want to be held when she speaks his name like that, but now it drives panic though him.

Something wet and silvery blue plops onto his shorts from under his shirt, and he can’t bare to look down. He knows that’s soul essence, dripping down from inside his rib cage, _~~and he has no fucking control here. He can’t say no, he can’t. It’s his heat, the first one since coming to the surface, his first one with Lilith and he didn’t even fucking tell her! But the heat, the way his head spins, the way he can’t get his soul to de-manifest, the utter lack of control…~~_

_~~It’s just like when Oliva had him…~~ _

Panic swells and for a brief moment over taking the need of his growing heat and his eye-light flash bright cyan. He’s suddenly breathing hard, too hard, whether from panic or lust, he can’t be sure, but Lilith sees something in him, a shift in his stance. The way he tenses up, curls in on himself has her eyes widening and reaching out for him.

She steps forward, socked feet stepping into the shattered glass, but doesn’t flinch when she steps on a large piece of it and blood wells into the fabric, “Sans, wait!”

He can’t, he just can’t. Not right now, not with all eyes one him and the sweltering heat and growing panic. He just…

He’s gone between one blink and another, short cutting to their room in a desperate bid to feel safe. He hits the floor hard, panting and wanting and _afraid_. Usually, instinct would have him start building a nest, their nice, big bed would have done the trick, but it’s too out in the open. It leaves him too vulnerable to attack, but he’s afraid to hide. What if his mate can’t find him?

Torn, Sans curls into a ball and shakes, cursing the stupid Friday that suddenly wasn’t like every other.

-

Sans had left Lilith alone in the kitchen with Ryder and Papyrus, stunned and not quite angry, but something kin to it.

She had seen the panic on his face, the fear and hopelessness before he fled, and all of it could have been avoided if he had just _said_ something.

She’s hit, briefly, with a wash of uncertainty, her mind lacking clarity as her world reconfigured itself; it wasn’t often that Lilith was reminded that Sans was not human or a mage or even one of the fairy tale folks. He was a monster, one with his own biological needs and a need that just kicked his front teeth in.

Cursing, Lilith limped to the table where Papyrus and Ryder still watched her with wide, uncertain eyes as she sat and propped her ankle on her knee. Pulling the sock off, she dug the piece of glass out of her foot, “Papyrus,” her voice is steady as ever, solid as she is, and she swallows any remnants of her almost anger. Sans needs her level headed now, “I need to know what’s going on and I need the Coles notes version for now.” 

Papyrus blinks at her, glancing to Ryder, who glances back with the same uncertainty before they turn back to her. Lilith feels her soul twist at the looks of concern on their faces as Papyrus starts to explain, “Ah. Well.” He sounds hesitant before he gives himself a hard shake and continues brightly, firmly, “Well, as my brother did not fill you in on our most basic biological need, I suppose it is up to I, the great Papyrus to fill in your educational needs.”

Easing the glass from the bottom of her foot, Lilith nods, feeling a sense of urgency and dread, “Please.” She says when the glass finally slides free, she doesn’t wince as she twists to toss it into the trash, “If you could.”

Papyrus grins at her as Ryder stands, clapping his mate gently on the shoulder before going off to sweep up the rest of the glass and soft green magic swells along Lilith’s foot to knit the wound closed.

Nodding, Papyrus clasps his hands over the wooden table, his face becoming serious, “Well. Now then. As you have said, you need the Cole’s notes, as Sans doesn’t have much time. A heat, is a basic monster necessity, occurring either annually or bi-annually. The timing is always triggered by two things. Time of year, Sans and I always have ours in late spring, and population. Our magic will have a sense of a number of our species, and if too low will trigger a second heat.”

Papyrus frowns a little, glancing down at his notebook, “As Sans and I are the last of our kind, as far as we know, we always have two heat seasons, our magic’s attempt to shore up our numbers. Very early spring, and mid summer.”

Giving himself a little shake, Papyrus glances up to Lilith’s wide eyes, sees her watching him with laser focus. “So,” he continues gently, “This won’t be the last time this happens, and we really should have a more in-depth conversation, but I feel that Sans is going to need you shortly.”

Ryder snorts as he sweeps the glass from the floor, but says nothing, allowing Papyrus to continue, “The first thing Sans will need to do, is build what is essentially a nest. Someplace safe and warm, filled with soft things. It will help if they smell like you, it will sooth him when he’s trapped in the heat’s thrall.” Papyrus pauses, face pinching with misery when he softly says, “Sans also suffered a great trauma this year, and this will be his first heat after what happened with Oliva.”

Lilith goes stock-still at the name, eyes flooding crimson as her mouth pulls into a snarl at just the mention of her name, and in all honesty Papyrus can appreciate the sentiment, “That will very likely affect how this one is going to play out for Sans, likely the reason why he chose to ignore the signs of his impending heat.”

That only makes Lilith’s eyes burn a darker crimson, nearing the color of blood as she grits her teeth. Papyrus continues, undaunted, “It will likely feel like what ever drugs Oliva injected into his soul.”

Lilith’s shoulders raise in an aggressive hunch, trying to make her look bigger to a threat that no longer exists, “He’s going to feel vulnerable and helpless then, isn’t he?”

Papyrus sighed, Ryder slid into the seat next to him, taking his hand, “I don’t know Lilith. If we had more time, I would suggest asking Dr. Alphys. She may have old books or journals from the war to describe what happened with returning soldiers, or even ask Gerson.”

Lilith frowned, staring hard at the table, as if it would give her answers, “Okay, what else?”

Papyrus sighed, “We will go into how baby monsters are made later, as I don’t think it will affect you. Your human magic and Sans’s monster magic are not compatible.”

Lilith nodded, “Good. No Babies.”

A little part of Papyrus frowned, a little sad at that sentiment, but he nodded anyways, “Right. Well,” he went bright orange and coughed a little with embarrassment, “Monsters in heat will become insatiable, and nothing will satisfy their need to mate until the heat is over. Their very essence will boil down to eating a little, sleeping a little and mating.”

Frowning, Lilith squirmed with unease, “It takes away his choice?”

Papyrus heaves a sigh, “A little? It makes monsters feel an unbearable need that they can’t think past. It’s why monsters will talk with their partners prior to a heat, to ensure that they are both comfortable with what is about to transpire. That nothing bad happens to the monster in heat or their partner.”

Papyrus goes impossibly orange, vaguely nodding to the book between he and Ryder, “Underground, Sans had a number of partners that would help him with his heat. I know Grillby was one of those monsters. Muffet too.” Papyrus squirmed, looking uncomfortable, knowing his brother should be having this talk with his mate, “Sans he…he had a number of friends with this arrangement. Sans doesn’t like pain, and it hurts to go it alone.”

Lilith licks her teeth, and Papyrus answers the question she doesn’t want to ask, “Oliva too.”

She sucks on her teeth, anger pulsing through her like a hot iron in her soul. She pushes it aside, “So, what happens, when if someone goes it alone?”

Papyrus sighs, shoulders slumping, “Unfortunately, I have a lot of experience in that department.” He mutters, and there’s a swell of orange in Ryder’s blue eyes, quickly hidden under gentle patience as he slips an arm around Papyrus’s slim shoulders.

Papyrus beams up at him, taking a brief moment to nuzzle under Ryder’s chin, making the big mage melt a little, before he turns back to Lilith, “A heat can be rode out without sex. Its difficult and it hurts, and its harder alone but it can be done. A monster will usually resort to…” Papyrus pauses, looking a little bashful, “To touching themselves sexually and not, but if they have a partner, their partner can touch them as well. Holding and petting limbs, holding the soul, none of that needs to be sexual. Physical contact will help. Cold baths as well. With a partner and having sex, a heat can last as little as a single day, maybe even up to three days. Without, as long as a week, week and a half.”

Lilith sighs then, scrubbing at her face, but says nothing to allow Papyrus to continue, “The longer the heat goes on, the harder it will be for them. It’ll start out as discomfort that will eventually hurt. Real hurt. Soul cramps, irritability and emotional instability. It’ll be harder to endure, until it fades away completely.” 

Papyrus sighs as Lilith rubs at her eyes with a sound of frustration, digging the heals of her hands into her eyes. Papyrus sighs softly, feeling a pang of sympathy for the mage, knowing this is a lot to drop on someone on a lazy Friday afternoon.

She straightens suddenly, face pulled into grim determination, because like _hell_ is she going to allow Sans to suffer alone, “Okay, so. Basically, keep him safe and protected. Keep him warm, fed and if he still can, talk to him figure that…out.” She ended slowly, “If not, hold him until this is all over?”

Papyrus beamed at her, the anxiety in his soul easing a little, “See, you’ve got it. You’ll do just fine Lilith.”

Blinking owlishly at him, Lilith wished she believed that as much as Papyrus did. Wished she had even a fraction of faith in herself as he did. With a sharp nod she stood, ignored the twisting of her stomach and the uncertain pang in her soul to prepare a long couple of days.

-

Easing the door to their bedroom open, Lilith sends a soft prayer to Fate herself that Sans had fled to the one place that he might feel safe, and short cutted to their room. When she finds him in a hot, messy ball on the floor, she doesn’t know if she should be relieved or aching with sympathy.

Stepping into the room, she uses the back of her foot to close the door, drops the extra blankets on the bed and places the cooler with water and treats on to the floor. 

Sans hasn’t moved from his ball of anxious agony, curled tightly into himself, sockets jammed shut as his forehead pressed into his knees, hot, blue magic already dripping down his skull like little beads of sweat. Lilith found herself frozen for a moment, her breath caught in her throat and for an instant she was taken back to that time underground when Sans was twisting in pain from a drug. When everything that made him, _him_ , had been fucking scooped out and replaced with a needy, hurting creature, and the past and present blurred for a horrifying moment.

Swallowing hard, Lilith shoved it down to deal with later, Sans didn’t have the time for her to be caught up in a nightmare and she needed to get her shit together for him.

Steeling her nerves, she slowly approached her trembling boyfriend, lowering to her knees gently and hesitating to touch him. She reached out, her hand hoovering over his panting body that trembled so hard she could hear his bones rattle, “Sans?”

His breathing hitched, but he didn’t move, “Sorry.” His voice was slurred, and anxiety twisted his soul, “Didn’t mean to forget.”

Lilith swallowed, her throat felt thick and tight, “S’okay.” She bit her lip before asking, “Hey, do you want to sit up? We can talk, a bit?”

Sans shuttered, then nodded. Shoving himself up slowly, Lilith felt her soul pang at the misery on his face, the way he panted and the magic that leaked heavily through his white shirt. His eye-lights darted around in a panic, before they landed on her. He tries to give her a grin, but he can’t quite get it to reach his sockets, “So heh. I’m gonna guess that the fairy tale folk don’t have heats huh?” 

Blinking at him, Lilith swallows hard and shakes her head no, “Uh. No. Not even close. This is.” She pauses, face going red, “This is a new one on me.”

Sans makes a little _heh_ before he drops his face back to his knees, somehow making the noise sounded self-deprecating without using words, “I used to enjoy my heat.” He muttered into the fabric of his shorts.

Hurt pulses through Lilith, aching for her mate and his agony, and she gives into the urge to touch him. Laying a hand over his shoulder, her fingers loosely circle his collar bone and throat, her thumb sweeping gently at his heated bones. It sends a shiver through him, and Lilith hesitates, “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” the word is chocked out almost as a sob, and Lilith curses Oliva back to whatever hell she came from.

She keeps petting him gently, licking her lips nervously, her insides feeling like they’re knotting up with anxiety, but she knows what she needs to do, “Love?” Sans doesn’t say a thing, just trembles under her hand, “I know your scared. And I know, this is hard, but I need you to talk to me. I need to know what you need me to do over the next few days.” 

Sans doesn’t move, so Lilith keeps going, “Papyrus filled me in… a bit. I have an idea of what you need, but I need you to tell me.” He doesn’t say anything, just continues to tremble under her hand, “Sans I can’t do this on my own, and we don’t have much time.”

A shaky, watery sigh eventually heaves out of him and Sans lifts his sweaty and tear stained face from his knees, “’Kay.”

Lilith frowns, reaching out to brush away the tears softly, giving Sans a moment of comfort as he leans his skull into her touch, “It’s going to suck.” He mutters into the palm of her hand, teeth nuzzling against her soft skin, “I’m not ready for it, I keep thinking of Oliva.” He’s trying not to shut down or shut Lilith out, but it’s hard with warring wants and needs.

He huffs a sigh between his teeth, and Lilith can feel how warm it is and wonders how she _missed_ this when they were out that afternoon, “I don’t want her to fucking take this too.”

“We don’t do anything you don’t want to.” Lilith is quick to reassure, hands soft on his bones, “We can do nothing at all.”

Sans frowns at her, his soul twisting at that thought, it’s not what he wants at all, “No. I don’t want her to win.”

“And she won’t.” Lilith is trying to be reassuring, but she’s not picking up what Sans is putting down.

His frown deepens and his anxiety spikes. Horrible heat coils in his bones, and he knows he doesn’t have much time before he isn’t coherent, “Lilith,” she goes incredibly still at the desperate sound of her name, despite the tears that are still slipping free, his voice small, “I want you to do what ever you want to me.”

Her eyes go wide at the blank check he’s just written her, the power he’s handing over, but he trusts his mate, “I know you won’t hurt me.”

Sans swallows the swell of emotion that rises, the fear that makes his soul stutter, but he takes comfort in Lilith’s firm presence next to him, takes comfort in her hesitation to have free rein over his body. Sans _knows_ that despite what she has done, could do, Lilith is good at her core. The soldier that does what she must to keep them safe, to keep him safe and loves him.

Lilith, would never, ever hurt him.

“Sans, you.” She hesitates in a way that he’s never seen her hesitate, and that sooths his soul to know she’s taking this seriously, “You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.” _I trust you_ he doesn’t say, can’t seem to get he words out from the knot in his throat.

Lilith nods, lets out a breath of air from between her teeth to settle herself with a nod, “Okay.” She says slowly, flexes her hands before she settles herself. Sans watches it happen, sees the steel that saw her through the war sooth away her fear and worry, and she sets her shoulders; Sans relaxes when he sees that, knows he’s safe because it’s _Lilith_ that has him.

“Okay.” She says again, sounding more confident as she pushes herself to her feet, only to bend and scoop him up off the ground. He gives her a watery chuckle, clinging to her shoulders as he’s set on the big, soft bed.

Brushing away the last of his tears, Lilith leans forward to press a gentle kiss to his teeth, cupping his jaw gently. His eyes slide shut, teeth part to allow her to roll her tongue over his and it shoots a spark of heat directly into his soul. It makes him feel boneless and soft as she pushes his zip-up hoodie off his shoulders to pool at his elbows. It takes some effort, but she doesn’t break their soft, loving kiss as she pulls his arms through it, soft and gentle so she can toss the hoodie to the side of the bed. 

He groans when she pulls away, her voice a husky whisper against his skull, “Get the bed arranged how you need.” He swallows at the order, eye-lights dilating, and Lilith is sure she hears him mutter _fuck_ under his breath before he scrambles to do as he’s told even as she pulls away from him.

She turns her back to him, making for the cooler and swallows hard again and settles her nerves. She can’t fuck this up, _can not._ She can’t ruin this, if she does, she could fuck up Sans for a very long time and she refuses to be the cause of any more trauma to his already battered psyche. She needs to get this right, for Sans’s sake. 

Turning to watch him, Lilith sees his hands are trembling as he spreads out the blankets she brought over the mattress, making their bed extra soft as she pulled water bottles out from the cooler, gripping onto four of them by their necks.

Taking a breath, Lilith sets three on the bed side table and shoves one into his hands, “Drink.” And he isn’t stupid enough to say no to such a simple order, doing as he’s told as Lilith does the same.

They each chug a bottle of water, finishing the cold liquid quickly and discarding the plastic to the floor to be dealt with later, and Sans feels a shiver of anticipation run down his spine as Lilith climbs back onto the bed with him.

Heat is already building at his core, his soul dripping wetly as Lilith guides him down beside her, petting gently at his shoulders through his soft t-shirt, “Are you ready?”

He nods, swallowing hard as anxiety bubbles, laying a warm hand on his mate’s hip, “Yeah.” His tone turns breathless and rough, and the heat is crawling at his soul. It’s not painful yet, and Lilith’s gentle petting is helping keep it at bay. It’s getting harder to think, his head going fuzzy and soft.

Lilith nods, nuzzling another kiss against his teeth, she strives for faux confidence, “On to your back.”

He’s helpless to comply with the order he’s been given, rolling his aching body to lay on his back, parting his legs a little further apart. Not quite an invitation yet, but maybe a suggestion, but Lilith ignores the subtle offer as she slips her hand up his shirt to rub her thumb along is sternum.

Pleasure buzzes softly through him at the touch, the warm hand just over his soul as Lilith touches him lightly. He sighs and feels some of the tension leak from his body along with some of the anxiety. He’s still afraid, worried he’ll forget where he is, who he’s with, when Lilith’s soft voice whispers against his skull, “I’ve got you love. I’m here. Relax, nothing bad will happen to you while I’m here.”

He swallows and nods, “Okay.” But it’s a little shaky, his smile a little strained.

Lilith snorts, nosing gently under his chin as she slowly shifts over him, keeping her body weight off him by leaning on a propped elbow, her fingers splay over his ribs, the pads of her fingers making small, soothing circles over the warm bones, “I’m going to reach inside your rib cage and touch your soul.”

His breath hitches at her words, her fingers dragging softly over the bone, bumping over his ribs as she moved her hand down, falling into the gaps before coming to run the pads of her fingers over the edge of the bottom of his rib cage.

“Just reaching.” He whispered softly against his skull, lips brushing against his jaw as the tips of her fingers followed along the inside of his sternum, making him shiver and heat bloom from his bones. She hasn’t even gotten him naked yet but he’s already squirming, magic leeching from his bones and into his pelvic girdle.

“And I’m going to touch your soul.” She whispered against his jaw, pressing soft, light kisses along his jaw line, coming to nip at his cervical vertebra as her hand cupped his soul.

Sans gasped and jerked, arching his back as pleasure bolted hotly though him as Lilith’s thumb pressed softly into the dip in his soul, where the rounded parts of his heart shaped soul joined. Pleasure is starting to build as she softly massages his soul, thumb running through the silky soul essence that is already dripping against his spine.

Heat is building in his bones, marrow warming in his core, making him feel hot and needy. He’s a little breathless as Lilith nips and kisses his cervical vertebrae, sockets going half lidded, “I know what your doing.” He gasps a little when she nips a little harder.

She gives him a little hum, more soft kisses pressed against his throat with another swipe of her thumb over his soul, “What am I doing?” her voice is a low purr and honied, amused.

It helps him relax, her voice soothing and reassuring even when his voice hitches with the pleasure that’s building in his body, “Talking me through it.” He gasps as more magic gathers heavily in his pelvis, his soul feels heavy and wet 

He feels Lilith smile against his jaw, her thumb pressing against his soul, drawing a sharp gasp and another arch of his spine, “Do you want me to stop?”

Sans thrashes his head no, hands fisting into the blankets under them, drawing another small chuckle from Lilith. She licks softly at his throat, her tongue hot against his burning bones, “I want to try something.” She whispers against him, “Tell me to stop if you don’t like it.”

Sans nods, swallows heavily as she shifts; his bones are feeling hot, his pelvic girdle feeling heavy, “Okay.” 

Lilith nods, voice soft, “I’m taking your soul out.” His breathing hitches and he nods, legs parting a little more as Lilith eases his soul from his rib cage the same time she sits up on his hips, pinning him down with her weight.

He gasps and arches his hips upwards, trying to get any contact with his mate even with cloths between them, and Lilith smirks down at him, “I’ve got you.” She reassures, cupping his soul in both hands, thumb still brushing over the scared surface; the massive crack from their time underground is still a deep chasm in his soul, but less so when it was fresh. The deep crack has started to heal, the ends have closed, and her crimson magic fills the walls of the crack, pulling his soul slowly back together. All the small offshoots have been healed, filled with crimson magic from Lilith’s soul, bright like lay lines in the blue of Sans’s soul.

“Not gonna let anything hurt you.” Her voice keeps him with her in the here and now, not allowing him to be sucked into the past were Oliva haunts his dreams.

His mate has him, he’s safe.

Lilith’s lips curl into a smirk as she lifts his soul to her mouth, telegraphing her intentions long before her tongue licks a wide, hot strip up the centre of his soul. Sans arches and gasps, hands fisting into the thick blankets at his back, cursing at the wet, hot heat from her velvety mouth, soft against his soul.

Soul essence is slick under Lilith’s tongue as she taste’s Sans’s magic, sour-sweet like candy, the excess magic that is expelled from the crack in his soul is like static electricity against her tongue and she sucks gently at the point of his soul.

The moan builds at the back of his throat, and he shoves his hand into his mouth to muffle the soft sounds he’s making. It makes Lilith frown and he whimpers when he stops licking at his soul to tsk at him softly, her hand gentle as her fingers circle his wrist, “No,” she lightly chastises, pulling his hand from his mouth, “I want to hear you.”

Sans whimpers, tries to reason with her, tries to sass her, but another nuzzle from her to his soul and another hot lick against the silvery blue surface has him moaning and squirming under her. She grins at him, thumb brushing at his soul softly, “That’s it. That’s better love. You’re doing so well.”

The light praise makes heat crawl along his cheeks, and she’s still touching his soul softly when she summons her own. They’d never played with their souls when they were feeling frisky, Sans’s soul too damaged to tolerate so much handling and soul play was done gently, and by only touching his with careful hands.

Soul to soul touching was strictly for healing and nothing more. Or, it had been.

Breathing slowly compared to Sans’s frantic panting, Lilith brought their souls together, the sum of their beings, all that they were, and pressed them together. Blue magic reached out for crimson like it always had during a healing session, latching on desperately to drink in the deep well of magic and pleasure. 

Sensitive pleasure burned through Sans, his hands fisted again into the blankets at his back and the pleasure made him squirm as his toes curled. Lilith’s breathing hitched, her breathing picking up but still calm and collected as she breathed through the onslaught of sudden pleasure.

The hot pleasure built, washing over him and just as Sans thought dizzily that maybe he could ride this out like this, Lilith put his soul fucking _back_ into his rib cage along with hers, her soul nuzzling happily against his. The affect was near instant, creating a closed feed back loop; his pleasure flowing through their souls and into Lilith, only to have it bounce back at him with more force that it left, absorbing her pleasure before it hit home.

Lilith gasped, bowing forward, her hands planting hard on either side of his skull as the pleasure washes over them. Sans’s hands shot upward, gripping onto her shirt as pleasure rips through him, leaving him trembling and climax building in his magic, right where his belly would be and burning hotter. 

Lilith gasps softly as orgasm washes over Sans, their joined souls pulling her down with him and he tries to enjoy the sweet little noises she makes as they both come, leaving crimson and blue magic dripping wetly at his spine.

They’re both trembling as Lilith collapses at his side, and he clings to her tightly as magic solidifies between his legs, heavy and hot, and already dripping with need.

“Holey shit.” She mutters against his shoulder, her hands still tremble as she holds him, jerking when there is a spark of pleasure from their souls that they both feel.

Sans can only huff in agreement, already the heat is spreading, making him feel heavy and empty, a little fuzzy in the skull. They’re still not naked, and she’s already wrung one orgasm from his body, and distantly Sans is mildly impressed.

It _was_ a neat little trick.

There’s a spark of pride for Lilith before it’s washed away with his growing need, because of course his girl was brilliant. Tough as nails, sweet when she needed to be and fucking smart, _that_ was Sans’s girl.

Lilith takes a breath to steady herself, forcing herself up onto her elbow, she actually _beams_ down at him, too proud of herself before she nuzzles another kiss to his teeth, “Doing so well.” She breathed against him, her hand toying at the waist band of his shorts.

Sans gives a little huff of a laugh, and despite the heat in his head he manages to speak, “Heh, thanks. I excel at doing nothing.”

Lilith humms, nosing again at his throat, “Oh, your doing something.” He presses a kiss to his throat before she mutters, “I’m going to touch you, okay?”

Sans nods, hips hitching up to her touch as her fingers slip beneath the waist band of his pants, her voice soft against his bones, “You’re so pretty love.” 

It’s too close to the surface, too real a compliment and makes him feel a strange wash of shame. He’s not pretty, he doesn’t think so, but Lilith’s soul sooths the shame away, but his mouth is moving faster then his brains are, “heh, always thought I wouldn’t lay here and take it.”

She stills for a moment, and his breath catches as old memories threaten to bubble up. Dark memories from a time underground, when a child with a knife wrecked his whole life. 

_Fuck, he’s an asshole._

Lilith recovers first, but her fingers don’t move any lower before she mutters, “Well, you can’t dodge forever.” Before she touches the head of his cock, chocking off any smart-ass response that he might have had with a strangled gasp.

He grabs at her shoulders with a strangled swallow as the tips of her fingers travel down his hard length, wrapping her hand around his girth and gives his cock a pump. He buries his face into her shoulder, his muffled curse lost to her ears as she strokes him far too gently.

He’s too sensitive, his heat shoving him close to climax way too fast that it’s almost embarrassing, and the feed back loop _isn’t fucking helping_. His helpless whine draws a chuckle from Lilith, her hand still soft on his body.

A wash of want floods him, making him feel empty and needy, even with the gentle, constant friction that has him squirming. His soul pulses with anxiety as that want continues to grow, making him feel empty and afraid.

Lilith’s soul sings back to his, reassuring and warm, and he melts back into that comfort. Its enough to rally his courage even as Lilith continues to stroke him; his hand trembles when his thin fingers circle her wrist on its upswing, and she pauses.

He can’t look at her as his hand trembles, peeling her fingers away to pull them lower so the tips of her fingers brush at his soaking entrance, where he’s already wet with need. He continues to grip onto her in a bruising hold, afraid and quivering when he finally let’s go.

He can feel Lilith’s soul pulse in excitement, purrs at the trust that he’s putting in her, arching into the finger tips, panting at the swell of pleasure from the feed back loop their souls have created, “You’re sure?” she whispers against his skull.

His breathing hitches again, and there’s a moment of terror that swells in his soul, that even has Lilith shivering at. Yet, he nods yes, parting his legs a little further apart. 

Still, she doesn’t press inside, her fingers massaging gently at the lips of his pussy, coating her fingers in the silky slick, “Okay.” Lilith breaths against him, “You’re okay. You’re okay Sans.”

Her soul pulses warmly against his, echoing her own wants and desires, her want of him. Leaning up, Lilith cups his cheek, drawing him into a deep, distracting kiss, rolling her tongue over his to taste his magic again.

The heat is building again, hot and heavy in his soul with that soft, deep kiss and gently massaging fingers. The reassurance from her soul sooths the terror him his own, her mouth on his reminding him that he’s safe with his mate.

_~~Lilith doesn’t sound or even smell like Oliva. She doesn’t have the animal like musk in her hair, doesn’t have fur. Lilith is strong and fierce, good in the ways that matter, everything that Oliva wasn’t.~~ _

Sans relaxes slowly, in glacier increments melting into the mattress under Lilith’s careful touch; her fingers brush at his slick entrance, telegraphing her intention, giving Sans a chance to tell her to stop. Two fingers slide inside in a painful slow, gentle thrust that has Sans crying out into Lilith’s mouth as he clings to her.

Lilith shushes him gently, whispering reassurances as her fingers move through his slick channel, pressing into magical nodes, scissoring her fingers to press against the walls of his magic. Pleasure burned through him, making his breathing hitch and he tucked his head under her chin and clung onto his mate.

“I’ve got you love, I got you.” She whispered against his bones, brushing a soft kiss against the top of his skull, her fingers brushing at his tight channel, in slow, even motions.

His body twitches and arches, making little noises of pleasure as heat burns through his core. His soul throbs with pleasure and heat that’s rebounded off of Lilith’s soul and back into his. Panting hard, Sans can feel another climax building low in his pelvis, that leaves him panting and aching for more. For rougher, harder.

He mumbles against Lilith’s throat, breath hot against her skin but he can’t find the words to tell her what he wants, what he needs. It’s a slow, hot build that has another orgasm washing over him gently; nothing hard or heavy, just gentle, slow and loving.

Sans gasps, arches into her body as his pleasure peaks, and there’s a gush of fluid into the palm of her hand. It leaves him trembling with a terrible need, aching for more.

Lilith chuckles softly against his skull, pressing a kiss against his skull as she pulls away, her voice soft, “Good boy.” He praises softly, and he whines when she eases her fingers free with a wet slurp. He feels empty again, lonely, and he clenches down on nothing. A needy grumble gurgles at his throat, parting his thighs a little more, and when she moves to pull away Sans whines again.

Lilith smirks at him, and he curses when she licks her fingers clean to taste that sour-sweet magic again, obscene and filthy, and it sends another bolt of need through Sans’s soul, “Calm down.” She tells him gently, patting his femur as she slips off the bed, “I’m not going far.” 

She doesn’t, she winces when her soul tries to pull her back to the nest, but she ignores it and dips under the bed, pulling something out. Sans is a writhing, shivering mess of hormonal magic and need, and silently curses that he can’t pull her back to the bed with gravity magic. Doesn’t trust himself to have that much control without hurting her.

His girl maybe durable, but that didn’t mean he wants to injure her.

Lilith pops back up from under the bed and is climbing back into their hastily made nest with something long, thick and smooth in her hands, and it takes Sans’s addled brains a moment to realise that it’s a _toy_.

She sets the silicon toy down beside her, the bright pink of it standing out against the white of their blanket as Lilith pets at his femur again, “You doing okay Sans? You with me?”

The question tumbles in his head for a moment, the heat making the words sticky and confusing, but he manages to untangle what she means. Sans gives her a nod and a dopy grin, “Yeah. Still here.”

As here as he could be after two orgasms, and he’s still fucking _clothed_.

Lilith nods, and his soul pulses with pleasure when she looks pleased, “Okay. Good. That’s good, your doing really good love.” Sans feels the wash of nervousness from her soul before she settles it, “Do you want to play with the toy?”

Sans pauses, has to think _really_ hard why she’s asking that question as the heat makes magic swirl in his body, hot and needy. It takes him a moment to remember a time underground, with someone he thought was his friend and a rock…

He pushes the memory away, focuses on Lilith. Focuses on her warm, lush soul next to his, full of love and support. He knows that if he says no, Lilith will toss the toy immediately and won’t push the issue. Sans knows he’s fucking _cherished_ by his mage, and he’s safe.

Swallowing hard, he nods, then clenches his sockets shut and braces.

Lilith doesn’t move, and he can feel a pulse of worry from her soul; her hands are petting his femurs in long, soothing strokes to relax him, and he can’t hear the soft murmur of words, but her voice comforts him all the same.

He twitches, anticipation starting to build when Lilith finally reaches for the waist band of his shorts, peeling them off. They’re already sweat soaked and dripping in magic, but she pays that no mind and tosses them to the floor with everything else that has been discarded so far.

He’s sensitive when Lilith lays a hand on his femur, running a thumb along the inner bone, all the way up to the apex where his leg meets his hip, jerking and gasping at the light, little touches, “You’re still wearing cloths.” He gasps, “Not fair.”

Lilith snorts, her fingers brushing at his slick entrance again, “Be patient.” She lightly scolds with a grin, clearly enjoying this.

Sans sorts back, “No fair.” He mutters again, but all other thought is driven from his mind when the head of the toy presses just inside, making him arch and moan. Lilith is still petting his femurs, soothing and soft, a constant reminder that he’s safe.

Her soul sings to his own, comforting and full of love as she eases the toy inside, parting him slowly. The toy inside is smooth, pressing into _all_ the right places as he clenches down around it, desperate to keep it in place.

_~~It feels nothing like a rock, its not sharp and painful, doesn’t cut into him; the glide is smooth as silk, and he likes it. It helps, he thinks, that it’s Lilith’s soul that pulses comfort and reassurance into his.~~ _

“You’re doing so well love.” Lilith’s voice praises again when it’s finally slid all the way home, making Sans arch and his toes curl, moaning out his pleasure.

“Is…is this yours?” he wonders out loud, making Lilith look up and turn red.

“Uh.” She glances at the toy that’s been carefully nestled inside before going back to his face, “Yes?” she tells him hesitantly, “I mean. It’s not like I had a boyfriend after the war, and once we had Frisk here it’s not like I had time. So, you know.” Her face goes impossibly redder and Sans can feel the pang of embarrassment from her soul. 

His echoes back with want, and he groans, hiding his face. The toy that belonged to her, had _been in her_ , was now in him, and that wasn’t fair how hot that was. Lilith stills at the feeling of need and tangled want, and relaxes, “You like that?” she almost sounds amused.

“Not fair.” Sans groans, shifting to make the toy move inside, “Too hot. Still not naked.”

He feels a curl of mischief in his mate’s soul that swirls with the pleasure and enjoyment she’s getting out of this, “I know love.” She sighs at him, and without an ounce of remorse in her soul, turns the toy on.

Sans cries out, skull pressing back into the soft pillows, back arching as he fists the blankets at his back. The toy vibrates inside him, hot and fast in his too sensitive channel, sending him barreling through another orgasm that leaves him dazed and twitching, his vision dimming a little.

Pleasure fills him, burns through him until he knows nothing else, his sockets squeezing shut as he rides it out. Its too much too fast, the heat in his body too hot, and he feels his body and mind drop into a fuzzy, dim place.

He doesn’t know how long it takes him to float back to a conscious state, but he’s dazed and warm, but the heat in his bones still burns through him. He swallows hard, skull twisting to seek out his mate, feeling a little shaky and needy.

Lilith hasn’t gone far, she’s on her side and tucked Sans against her, watching over him with keen eyes and something protective pangs in his soul from hers; she’s got her head propped in her hand as she watches him, the smallest of smirks playing at the corner of her mouth as she pets his spine.

Sans’s eye-lights have gone fuzzy around the edges, not the sharp laser focus they usually are, but hazy and distorted, his breath hitching.

“Sorry.” She muses, not sounding at all sorry, “You okay?”

The questions float through his mind, rolling off him like water off a duck’s back, “What?” his tongue felt thick. 

The toy is still buried deep inside, the setting much, much lower, only a pleasant buzz that’s meant to tease, and he doesn’t know what he should think by Lilith’s too pleased smirk, “Oh love. Do you need a break?”

The heat in his bones surge, and he thrashes his head no. Sweat drips from every bone, and he might combust if she stops touching him. He feels slick and sticky between his legs from the spent magic that leaks down his femurs, but pleasure is still hot in his body.

“Okay.” She murmurs as she leans down to press a small kiss to his mouth, pushing him onto his back.

His cock throbs, heavy and hot, but he relaxes when Lilith follows him after striping her own cloths off, _Finally!_ Along with his shirt. She’s soaking between her legs, and her soul pangs with want of him, with affection, and it helps Sans settle down into their bed.

His mate is lovely, slick sweat almost makes her gleam like an ethereal being, all hard muscle and a soft face when she finally sinks down, enveloping him in her sweet, velvety heat. He feels a swell of emotion, affection and love when she holds his hands, anchoring him to her as she begins to move in slow, gentle movement.

Of all the things they’ve done, her holding his hands as she rides him, slow and soft, is the most intimate thing they’ve done, and Sans can’t stop staring at their joined fingers, squeezing. He loves her, Sans loves his mate so very much; that’s the last coherent thought Sans has as Lilith nudges him much more gently towards another orgasm, drawing soft panting whines and moans. Their breaths hitching in pleasure as magic fills her when Sans comes, coating the clenching muscles that tighten around his echo flesh. 

Lilith sighs, happy and content before turning the toy back up, and it shoves him over the edge again; all the while Lilith doesn’t stop rocking against him, the slick glide of his cock into her warm, wet heat, the hot, vibrating pressure inside keeping him on the brink.

That round turns into another, and another, and eventually Sans loses count as some vague, loose thought has managed to be strung together and it’s that Lilith has stamina. She could fight for literal days in the way only battle mages could; magic and adrenaline powering her body when all others would have fallen apart.

It’s a blessing, or so Sans thinks, that she can keep going even when he’s ready to give it up, and near the end, when even in his last orgasm he couldn’t produce any magic when he came but he was still painfully hard, Lilith didn’t give up.

He’s tired and miserable by the end, wants to stop to shower, eat and sleep, and maybe not in that order but the heat still claws stubbornly at his soul, leaving him wanting and hard, demanding that he finish this. His body hurts, his _bones_ hurt with exhaustion and yet he still feels empty and needy. The toy long abandoned as they neared what Sans’s hopes is the end of his heat, after having to change the batteries twice… or was it three times?

Sans can’t remember anymore, he just focuses on the slick glide of Lilith over his body as he clings to her, sockets gammed shut, willing his body to just come already.

He’s panting hard, his body trembling and his words are more of a whine, “Hurts.” He mutters, and beyond that he can’t string more words together.

“I know love.” Lilith tells him softly, panting a little and Sans is a little horrified she doesn’t sound all that winded, “Last one, I promise, then we’ll rest.”

He nods and clings to her, squeezing his sockets shut until finally, _finally,_ his body gives in and another, weak orgasm ripples though him, leaving him feeling over sensitive and gross.

The heat in his bones have died down, and even his soul has calmed as his body softens and even Lilith sighs in relief. His soul lets go of hers, both are slick and sticky with magic, but Lilith doesn’t hesitate to ease hers from his rib cage and dismiss the bright crimson magical organ, and Sans mourns the loss of the light and heat.

Easing off of him, Lilith falls to her side, panting and sweaty as his ecoflesh dissipate into soft blue stardust that sticks to the magic that streaks down his pelvis and thighs.

Lilith moves with a satisfied groan, pulling one of the warm water bottles from the nightstand to take a deep swig herself before she shares with him. Sans shakes his head no, he can’t move never mind take a drink, he just wants to sleep it off for a while.

Nodding, Lilith caps the bottle before her hand finds his shoulder, “You with me?”

Sockets sinking shut, Sans shrugs. His everything hurts, and sleep is dragging him down, “Thanks.” He sounds beyond exhausted, something so soul deep that he wouldn’t be able to raise a hand to defend himself, “Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

Lilith sighs, standing from the bed with a stretch and a wince. She’s going to be sore for a while, “It’s okay Sans.” Just like that, forgiven for a stupid mistake, “Come on, we’re not sleeping without a shower.

He groans when she scoops him up into her arms, but doesn’t fight her, limply swinging an arm around her shoulder to let her do all the work. Knows that she’ll take care of him, even as he’s drowsy and staring to already fall asleep in her arms.

He’s completely out by the time Lilith pokes her head out of their bedroom door and traces to the bathroom, slipping inside without being caught. Sans doesn’t wake up as Lilith steps into the hot shower to wipe away the grim, sweat and magic from their bodies; Sans doesn’t wake up when Lilith gently sets him down at the other end of the tub as comfortably as she can so she can wash her hair; and really, how the hell did she get magic in her hair?

Sans continues to breath slowly, evenly, so deeply in sleep even as Lilith finishes showering and dries them off; doesn’t wake when she wraps a towel around her lithe body and wraps Sans in one as well before she scoops him back up. His skull lulls onto her shoulder with a soft little noise, almost like the trilling of a cat, that nearly has Lilith squeeing with how cute it is.

She swallows it back, maintaining her reputation as she peeks out of the bathroom again, intending to slip back into their room without being seen.

She has a single foot out of the door, when the other bathroom door opens, and Lilith stupidly _freezes_ as Ryder steps out of the room; steam comes from the other bathroom, Ryder freshly shower with Papyrus in his arms, soundly asleep in his arms. 

He startles when he sees Lilith, going stock still as their eyes lock in a weird frozen moment.

“Thought Paps didn’t start until tomorrow.” Lilith offers awkwardly, shifting Sans into a more comfortable position into her arms.

Ryder shifts, catching the towel around his waste before it fell, “Came early.” He mutters, going a brilliant red when Lilith snorts, “Or Sans was late, Papyrus isn’t sure.”

Lilith nods, slowly backing away to her own room, “Right. So, this never happened.”

Relief swells so heavily in Ryder, that Lilith can almost feel it, “What happened?” he askes, amused as he backs away too.

They nod at each other, intending on keeping the secret when the door between them opens and Felix steps out; his nose is in a book, dark eyes flashing over the words as his lower lip caught in his teeth, a soft blush over his face.

Lilith and Ryder both freeze again, holding their breaths as Felix looks up from his book, surprise rippling over his features as he looks between his brother and sister and their wide eye’d shock. Felix blinked at them, his smirk slow to grow, “Hey guys. What’cha up to?”

Ryder goes red, and Lilith square’s her shoulders on with Felix, her voice firm as if she was standing on a battlefield and not their hallway, “Going to bed.”

It left no room for argument, would have frightened off anyone else that wasn’t Felix. He grinned, eyes shimmering gold with amusement, “Huh. So how was the kinky heat sex with your monster boyfriends?”

He sounds amused, the little shit that he is, beaming between his siblings like a brat. Ryder goes so red, Lilith is worried he’ll set something on fire with the heat from his cheeks that spread up to his hair line and down his throat, “I am not! We are not!” he makes an annoyed sputtering noise that brings a smile to Felix’s mouth, “Good night Felix!” he spat, turning away to stop as quietly as he could back to his bedroom.

The battle mages watch him go, both amused at watching him try to act dignified and above it all as he cradles Papyrus’s sleeping form in his arms.

Felix turns his viciously amused eyes back to his sister, glancing down at Sans’s sleeping form, “Soooo. How was it?”

Lilith rolls her eyes, instead side stepping the question, “Are your reading a romance novel?”

Shrugging Flex grins, “Listen, I’m adult enough to admit that yes, yes I am. I’m lonely as fuck, my last girlfriend tried to kill me and that might be a sign to cool my heels in the dating scene. So, again, how was it?” there’s a gleam of curiosity there, something that Lilith is now privy too, and Felix is not. 

Lilith rolled her eyes at her brother, knowing he was only trying to get under her skin, “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell Felix.” She calls over her shoulder when she makes for her own room.

Felix snorts after her, “You’re not a lady, you’re a battle mage! There’s a difference.”

“Fuck off Felix.” He calls back to him.

“Come on Lili, you used to kiss and tell.”

She pauses at her door, and that’s a fair assessment. During the war, and for Felix after it, they would always tell each other about their conquests. Who they’d slept with and what where they like. Which members of the Covens and allied forces to avoid, and who would expect retribution from the other if they were ever harmed.

This… this was different.

Lilith squares her shoulders, “The difference is, I love Sans.” And that meant protecting his privacy from even her closest brother, friend and Den mate. Felix was her confidant, the one person she could tell anything too, and he would get it. Understand it in a way that no other could, would understand how a battle mage gets it, and he’s the same for her. They turn to each other, lean on each other first and foremost, and are the closest of friends. 

Felix can feel the battle lost, and rolls his eyes, not taking offense to Lilith not spilling the beans, “Fine, you fucking sap. Don’t tell.” Lilith rolls her eyes at him, “I expected Ryder to go all soft and smooshy, can’t believe you did too.” He tsks at her.

Lilith rolls her eyes at her brother’s smirk, “Bite me Felix.”

Felix’s smirk only gets sharper, “No thank you, I don’t know where you’ve been.”

His laughter follows her into her bedroom even with a huff and a curse, locking Felix out of her their room. Lilith shakes her head, “Fucking brat.” She mutters, making her way to their bed, stripping the top blanket off the mattress to shove onto the floor with the rest of the mess to deal with later.

Striping off the damp towels, Lilith tucks Sans back into the warm folds of their bed, climbing in beside him to settle down to sleep. Her murmured again, making that sweet, precious noise like a cat, that made Lilith grin. She pulled him against her body, warm and safe, pressing a kiss to his skull.

“Love you Sans.” She muttered against the bone, and he sighed happily into her clavicle, nesting under her chin, sated and safe. She didn’t know what tomorrow will bring, if the heat would come back or not, but she’d be there for him, give him what he needed. 

Sighing softly, Lilith held her mate, drifting off into a deep, satisfied sleep, knowing they were safe enough to do so.

-

Down in the kitchen, making himself a sandwich, Felix gleefully messaged Sloan and Lola on the scandalous, yet hilarious scene he had unintentionally walked into.

He rubs his chest and tries to pretend his soul didn’t pang with loneliness, it calling out for his own mate to care for and love on. He wants what Lilith has with Sans; he wants someone to cherish like that. Someone to cherish him.

He’s not jealous of his sister, hardly. He’d seen her through the worse times, she’d done the same for him and he knew that she deserved this happiness.

Viciously shoving those thoughts away, Felix tucks into a late-night snack and opens his book back up to the dog eared page. He needed to see if the little human was going to fall in love with the werewolf yet, or if they were going to drag this on a little while longer.

For now, that’ll have to due.


	12. It'll Have to be Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, a splash of mercy is all anyone needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Lovlies, 
> 
> The next addition of Five Months, all sparkly and new! I hope you all enjoy. 
> 
> I would like to thank my discord buddies for helping me pick out pet names that Paps would call Ryder. Thanks Wolf, Rook and Cap! 
> 
> A few warnings this round; description of violence and fighting. Mention of the children who died underground. 
> 
> Remember friends, wash your hands and stay home! 
> 
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With a stretch, Sans settled back down against his mate, sockets closed as he drifted into almost sleep; his head resting against Lilith’s chest, her arms draped loosely around him while she payed her silly little game.

Their legs tangled and Lilith shifted under his light weight, finding a better position on the bench they were stretched out on. They lay curled together in Sans’s favorite spot in the whole world, the back porch with the tin roof, stretched out and tangled in the cool spring sun.

Lilith pressed her back into the cushion of the seat, reddish hair pulled up into a high ponytail and out of her eyes, focusing on her game while her tongue peeking out and caught between her teeth in concentration. Sans nuzzled in under her chin, pressing a soft kiss to the taunt skin over her collar bone before settling back against her soft blue tank top. She huffed a soft laugh, brushing a kiss to the top of his skull, before she settled again, and Sans pressed his arms a little tighter around her middle.

He had his arms twined tight around her ribs, his bones warmed nestled between Lilith’s body and the zip-up hoodie she wore and when she shifted, she pulled the sides of her black hoodie up around him almost like a blanket.

Sighing softly, Sans began to drift again, falling asleep against his mate, satisfied and safe; knowing that no one in their right mind would dare step foot on this property without facing a wall of furious mages. Sans’s was safe, Papyrus was safe, and their mates ensured it.

Sans shifted again, trying to find that sweet spot of comfort while they were sprawled on the bench, his legs shifting against her coarse jeans, and he curled his socked toes up at a cooler brush of wind.

“You want me to get a blanket?” Lilith asked, she sounded distracted, but Sans isn’t fooled, he knows his sharp-as-a-tac- mate has been keeping tabs.

Sans shakes his head no, “Nah. You’d have to move, then I’d have to move and that’d be a god damn shame.” He muttered sleepily against her.

Lilith snorts, arms going a little tighter around him as he continues to play her Animal Crossing game, relaxing again. It’s the first time they’ve relaxed in nearly three days, hell it’s the first time they’ve been clothed in three days and Sans is hell bent on sleeping.

His heat had lasted longer then usual, extending out to a full three days. Luckily, for both of them, it hadn’t been nearly as intense as the first day had been, and being held, his bones being pet and skin to bone contact had been enough to keep it at bay. That didn’t mean that they hadn’t had some pretty extravagant, intense, _loving_ sex; because they had, and after the last of his heat evaporated from his bones, Sans felt like the cat who got the canary. 

He nestled into her, earning another soft kiss brushed at his skull.

Across from them, on a soft fabric swing, Ryder swung back and forth with Papyrus sprawled across him; they both look just as exhausted, just as satisfied as he and Lilith, Papyrus’s head is pressed under his mate’s chin and he’s purring loud enough that Sans can hear him from where he’s sitting.

It’s a nice day, a quiet warm afternoon that has Frisk playing in the yard with Felix, Undyne and Sloan. Felix is trying to teach Frisk how to jump double dutch; he’s crouched next to her, talking and signing slowly with her, as Sloan and Undyne spin ropes for them.

It’s nice enough out that Felix has stripped down to a dark plaid button up with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows, jeans dark and tight across his thighs; Sloan in a bright orange t-shirt dress and leggings and even Sans questions her sanity at not dressing a little warmer.

It had taken some…time and effort to get Undyne to spin the ropes at a reasonable speed that wouldn’t slaughter poor little Frisk, but they’d gotten there.

The sun was starting to get low in the sky when Lola came out with snacks, little sandwiches and a pitcher of lemon aid that was set on the table. Sans smiled to himself when he felt Lilith look up, giving her sister a hopeful, pleading look, brightening when Lola rolled her eyes and handed Lilith a sandwich.

“Thanks.” There’s a bright glee in her voice that makes Sans snort again, before settling down against her.

“You’re such a dork.” He yawns against her chest.

Lilith snorts back, taking a massive bite from the centre of her pillaged sandwich, chewing quickly before shooting back, “ _You’re_ a dork.” Before she fully swallowed her food.

“Ah, the old I am rubber and you are glue response. Such maturity. So Adult.” Sans’s smirks into Lilith’s collar bone, all snuggly and warm.

Lilith opens her mouth, no doubt to say something equally as immature when Ryder huffs a deep, pained sigh, “Are you two _always_ like this?”

“Yes.” Papyrus responds instantly, snuggling into Ryder’s big, barreled chest happily, drawing a huffing laugh from the massive mage. 

Sans can feel the eyeroll from Lilith, can feel the snark and the playful sarcasm that’s coming, only ever doled out to members of their Den when Lilith is feeling secure in her surroundings.

Her mouth opens, but whatever is going to be said stalls as Lilith freezes, sucking in air as her head suddenly snaps to the group playing jump-rope, where Felix has frozen as well. Pushing himself up, Sans looks up at his mate, frowning at her closed off expression, and ice-cold eyes that suddenly look like chips of frozen granite.

Brows furrow, his voice soft when he says her name, “Lilith?”

Lilith doesn’t say anything to him as she sets down her game and lifts Sans off her lap, socked feet cold against the wood of the patio as she stands. Dark, keen eyes are glancing around the yard, her body tense and ready for a fight before she takes a step towards Felix, her voice cold, “Stay here.”

Sans nods and feels something akin to anticipation prickle up the back of his neck as he fists his hands, glancing around as well, half expecting something to come flying out at them; battle mage instinct is never wrong, and something has Lilith’s buzzing hotly in her soul.

Ryder is easing Papyrus to his feet as well, pushing the taller skeleton behind him, “Lil?”

Lilith’s eyes scan the empty yard, brows pulled into an angry furrow as her mouth pulls into an angry line, “Something’s coming.” Her voice is cold as she comes to stand at the edge of the steps that would take her to the grass, Lola pushing herself to her own feet, looking anxious.

“What is it?” her voice is soft when she asks, and Lola shifts as magic sparks at her fingers.

Lilith’s dark eyes brighten to crimson as she steadies herself, glancing around the yard, “Don’t know, but my instinct is going haywire.”

Lola takes a sharp breath, and Sans notices that all the hair on Lilith’s arms have stood up. He hisses out a stressed breath between clenched teeth, hating the anticipation that seems to be sweltering around them.

Lilith nods, taking a step off the porch, her own socks soaking from the dewy grass but she ignores it as she makes her way over to Felix and Sloan; the latter has frozen as well, azure eyes narrowed in on the forest beyond their yard, “Something’s getting past the enchantments at the edge of the property.” She said bitterly, magic sparking at her own fingers.

Lilith nods, her voice cold, “Undyne, take Frisk and get to the porch.” Undyne’s head snaps so quickly around to glower that Sans worries she’ll break her own neck, her shark tooth mouth opening to argue with the mage, when Lilith speaks first, “The charms and protection spells on the compound are heavier. Most won’t be able to get through it, but if something happens to us, someone needs to be here to take care of Frisk.”

Undyne’s mouth snaps shut with a sharp click, and she glowers at Lilith with a bright, yellow eye, “Ah shoot. Fine. Come on kid.”

Frisk shook her head no, tried to fight it, but Undyne scooped her up, long legs bringing her up the porch next to Sans. Undyne doesn’t put her down, despite Frisk’s determined struggling to get free, and Sans tires to sooth her, “It’s okay kiddo. Let the battle mages deal with it, it’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t know if he believes that with how spooked Lilith and Felix have become, armor shimmering just out of reality in anticipation. Frisk’s sour look tells him that she doesn’t believe him either.

Undyne shifts, feeling the first tang of potential violence in the air, grumbling, “Really glad Al’s still in her lab.”

Sans makes a noise of agreement, eye-lights shifting around uncertainly. Alphas, at least, was safe inside.

It’s anticlimactic when a short women dressed in hiking boots, thick green pants and a thin black rain jack steps out of the shadows of the forest, a pack slung over her shoulders, freezing when she sees Lilith and Felix; they both still when the see her, the lines of their shoulders stiffening, and Lilith’s swords solidify at her back.

Felix frowns, looking irritated as his hands ball into fists, “Hey Alice.” He calls out to her, sounding a little hesitant to see her.

The pale faced girl frowns back at him, shifting nervously, purple magic fills her eyes and she glances to the woods and says nothing.

Lilith curses, glances uncertainly to Felix, and calls to ‘Alice’, “What are you doing here Alice?” Sans glances to Lola and Ryder, who look stricken, like a sort of dreaded acceptance of what’s about to happen.

Sloan’s face is cold, but her delicate hands have curled into fists that tremble. Whether with rage or anxiety, Sans can’t be sure, but it makes him nervous. If the battle mages and the spell caster are all nervous, nothing good can come of this.

Alice squirms, bright eyes glances again to the forest, fear creeping into her eyes; Felix leans over to Lilith a little, his frown deepening as his eyes glazing over in gold magic, “Lil. If she’s here, so are the other battle mages of her Den.” His words just barely carried on the wind, and Sans needs to strain to hear them.

Lilith nodded, glancing back at Sans before she focuses back on Alice, “Yup.”

“We trained these kids Lilith.” He sneers between clenched teeth, and Sans feels something in his soul twist. He curses under his breath, wishing for just one day where everything didn’t go to utter shit and they were faced with a cruel life or death scenario. 

“Lola, who are these people?” Sans mutters to the smaller mage as her hands began to twist together, and he _knows_ there are others in the woods.

Lola sighs, squirming with anxiety, “Madelyn’s Den.” Her voice is small and soft, and Sans feels his soul drop, slamming into his non-existent stomach, “That’s a young battle mage.” Her eyes glances around their property, which suddenly seems filled with too-dark shadows, “If she’s here, so are others. She and the other kids of Madelyn’s Den, The Moon Silver, served under Lilith and Felix near the end of the war, they were two classes under us. They don’t have the LV we do, nor the experience but we trained all those kids.”

Ryder sighed, teeth clenched as he nudged Papyrus further behind his much larger frame, “Where are the older battle mages? The fuck are they sending the kids here.” He glances around, mouth curling into a sneer, “Something’s not right here.”

Lola nodded as Undyne finally put Frisk onto her feet and nudged her back behind her, “The battle mages know it too.”

Sans shifted, felt his soul flood with magic, “How do you know?”

Lola’s eyes shone like emeralds, “They aren’t attacking. Something’s wrong.”

Sans tensed as Lilith took a half step forward towards Alice, eyes narrowed and shrewd, “Where’s your Den Alice?”

Alice squirms, knotting her own hands together before calling back, “They’re coming.” She tries to push her shoulders back to make herself look bigger, despite the trembling of her hands in the face of a much stronger opponent. 

Lilith rose a brow at her, frown deepening and her voice scolding, “Alice. You know better.”

Sans felt surprise spark in his soul at the familiarity in that tone, in the fact that Lilith seemed to know Alice well enough to use that sort of tone with her, even as Alice’s shoulders sank. Horror crept into Sans’s soul at an understanding; they hadn’t just trained these kids to survive the war, Lilith _cared_ about Alice and likely whoever came out with her. If they went on the attack, it would leave Lilith no choice but to defend herself by any means necessary and it wasn’t like the Pandora Den were known for their mercy. 

“This is how battle mages get dead Alice. What the fuck are you doing?” Lilith snapped, waving her arm in a wide half circle in a rare show of irritation. 

Alice deflated, mouth pulling into a tight line as another person stepped from the dark of the woods; the man stepped in front of Alice, face grim as he tucked her behind him as another man and woman slipped in behind Alice to box her in.

The man in front was tall with dark hair and yellow magic that filled his eyes as he crossed his arms tightly over his chest like a shield, planting himself protectively in front of Alice. He reminded Sans of Felix a little with his olive skin, the same magic type, and the long, lithe body of a swimmer.

The twins behind Alice were both pale skinned, green eye’d with flaming red hair. They stood at either of Alice’s shoulders, all puffed up looking smug with azure magic swirling at their fingers. 

Lilith tilted her head, not looking impressed in the least bit, “Noah.” The mage, Noah, who stood like an honor guard to his Den mate, puffed himself up as he was addressed, “Benjamin, Lucia.” The red heads behind Alice grinned in tandem, their smirks sharpening even as the boy waves brightly.

Lilith sighed, “Little shits.” Her voice is cold and monotone, but Sans can see the tiny shift in her body, the way her hands clench and unclench that she’s _upset_ , “You _kids_ shouldn’t be here.” She doesn’t want to kill them.

Noah’s face darkens, yellow eyes deepening to gold in his anger, “Lilith, we aren’t _kids_ anymore. You can’t boss us around.”

Lilith rose a delicate brow as if daring him to say it again, challenging, “Yes I can.” She snorted at him, cocking a hip as she shifted her weight, “I’m still older, stronger, and a higher rank thank you, _kid._ ”

Noah’s face clouded in anger, “We aren’t trainees anymore Lilith.” He snapped.

“Then stop acting like fucking one.” Lilith snapped back, blood red magic swirling in her eyes, her voice a rare show of anger.

Noah’s face darkens further, but before he can open his mouth to say anything, Felix chimes in with a volley of fake cheer, “Heya Noo~ah. Do me a favor, yeah?” he shoves his hands into his jean’s pockets to complete the look of nonchalant, rocking back on his heels, “Can you give your sisters panties back to her?” his smirk became cruel, “She left them in my room last night.”

Lilith cringed, eyes closing briefly in what Sans can only describe as unspeakable pain before shooting her brother a dark, annoyed look before she focus back on Noah, “Why are you like this?” she asks Felix as rage black’s Noah’s eyes out, and he growls at Felix.

Felix shrugs with a bright grin, “Part of my charm.”

Lilith sighs, shoulders slumping a little as gold magic fills Noah’s hands and his mouth snarls. With practised ease, he summons a crossbow and Lilith sighs again, “Fuck sakes Felix.” It draws a smirk from her brother as he summons’s his axe, sharp and heavy across his back; he shrugs at his sister, eyes bright, hands still pocketed.

Noah snarls, ignores Alice yelling for him to stand down, and lets the bolt fly at Felix’s grinning face; Lilith side steps in front of her brother, footsteps light as she glides in front of Felix at the same time her slim fingers that only moments ago pet Sans so gently, go around the handle of the sword at her shoulder.

There’s a swing of her arm, smooth and graceful as she pulls the sword free and _deflects_ the bolt like it was nothing at all, just another day for her. It’s almost as if time slowed down as Lilith moved, well practiced and no hesitation; Sans’s eye-lights focused on his mates graceful movements before he flinches at the sound of magic on magic as the bolt is redirected to the ground with a sickening pop. Lilith’s expression has closed completely, eyes burning like hell fire and Sans knows that it’s no longer his precious mate that walks before them, but the embodiment of Death.

Felix laughs at her back, bitter and dark, “That’s some fucking Witcher bullshit right there.” Before he disappears in a cloud of stardust.

Benjamin and Lucia tense, eyes following Felix, following the trail of stardust as Noah’s magic loads another bolt, dark eyes never leaving Lilith. She tilts her head, almost as if daring the younger mage to take the shot when Felix burst from the trace in a shower of golden stardust; hands weaponless, coming out swinging at Noah’s head with a tightly closed fist.

Sans winces when Felix slams his fist into the side of Noah’s skull, gold magic shimmering around his body and there is a crack of a brutal punch. The two mages tumble to the ground, Noah delivering two, three, four hard hits into Felix’s ribs, snapping two before they hit the ground; it doesn’t stop Felix from rolling them, his own brutal strikes slamming mercilessly into Noah’s body. They ignored Alice’s scream’s, calls for them too stop while the twins snarl at her back. 

Benjamin and Lucia cried out in anger; shoving passed Alice in tandem to charge Felix as he took Noah to the ground with a bitter, dark laugh. Spears are summoned into their hands, sharp and light, as they charge, but Lilith is there before them between one blink and the next. Her face filled with cold determination as she slides out of the trace on her knees, swinging her sword to cut through the ligaments of Lucia’s knee, dropping her to the ground with a screech, spraying blood across Lilith’s face as she pops back up to slash at Benjamin.

She cut through his spear with ease, shoving her way between his arms, head leaning back before snapping forward to break his nose. Lilith twists, drops her shoulder to shove her body weight into Benjamin’s solar plexes, winding him and shoving him to the ground.

Lucia’s healing trait knits her knee back together as quickly as Lilith’s would have, and she’s on her feet with a snarl; she charges but Lilith is ready for her. The older battle mage is light on her feet, well balanced as she dodges the attack with the spear, dipping under the weapon like it’s a dance; Lilith twists around Lucia with a complicated movement with her hands and feet to disarm her.

The spear goes flying, and before Lucia summons a new one, Lilith has her by the front of her thin raincoat and hits her in the jaw with her bare knuckles. Lucia’s head snaps to the side as a tooth is knocked loose, and Lilith pulls her fist back to hit her again.

Frisk’s hitching breaths is what reminds Sans that she’s still here, trapped with them in this horror show as she watches her big sister lay into Lucia with another brutal punch that sprays blood from her mouth; Sans tares his eye-lights from the battling mages to the tiny girl who is openly sobbing against Undyne, who is transfixed on what’s happening before them. Undyne’s dark yellow eye is flashing between Lilith, who has shoved Lucia to the ground in time to catch a fist from Benjamin to break his wrist and Felix, who is still grappling on the ground with Noah.

Sans frowns and feels his soul twist. He knows that Undyne wants to help, wants to protect the mages. Knows that her LV is probably riding her hard at the sight, sound and smells of violence; after all, someone had to take up the mantle of Asgore’s executioner when Sans couldn’t do it anymore and Undyne paid that price.

Yet, she keeps her feet planted because that’s what she was ordered to do, but she’s neglecting Frisk, who is clinging to her dark pants with desperation.

Sans sides steps, glances to his brother who has his fists curled tightly into the back of Ryder’s shirt and his face pressed into Ryder’s shoulder blade, so he doesn’t have to watch the mages brutality, and takes another step towards Frisk.

Ryder has a hand twisted behind him to grasp at Papyrus’s shirt, keeping him pressed against the wide expanse of his back; and Sans knows that Papyrus will be taken care of.

He takes another step to Frisk, lifting his arm as an offer of someplace safe, “Hey kiddo.” Sans winces when Lilith grunts out her next hit that drops Benjamin to the ground, and she spins to dip and dodge Lucia’s attacks; Lilith is faster, her hits harder as her punches slip past her defences like boxer.

Frisk’s tear stained face lifts to Sans and the sanctuary he’s offering, “Come here.” She made a little whimper before she shot from behind Undyne to the safety of under Sans’s arm. Sans tucked her against his ribs, pulled his hoodie over her and pressed a hand to her ears to muffle the noise of fighting. 

She trembles against him, desperate but thankful as she clings to him, burring her face into his ribs. 

Lilith is holding her ground between the twins, striking hard and fast like a bare knuckle boxer, sending them to the ground again and again; Felix has pinned Noah under his wight, sitting on his chest and Sans winces as so many things happen too quickly.

Another mage stepped from the woods, panting and panicked looking. Her black hair is pulled into a messy ponytail that is filled with burrs and twigs, and her wide frightened eyes are dark and painfully familiar. Sans feels his sockets go wide, feels magic spark at his fingers at those dark eyes, eye’s he’d not forget any time soon; she had the same eyes as Madelyn.

Suddenly it’s as if Lilith and Felix minds have been joined as they both reach for their weapons at the same moment; Lilith drives a fist into Benjamin’s stomach to take him to his knees before she slams her heel into the side of his head. She catches him by the throat with her foot pressed into this windpipe to keep him pinned, and a gravity disk spreads out from Lilith’s feet when Benjamin’s hands are desperate to shove her off him and he whines when he can’t.

Lilith’s upper body twists as Lucia charges, but she skids to a stop when both of Lilith’s swords swing at her throat, stopping a hairs breath from the soft skin at the column of her thin neck; had she kept up with the momentum she would have taken Lucia’s head. Her eyes shot wide, the azure fading back to dull green as she freezes, eyes wide.

Felix raises his axe high over his head, the horned face of the demon flash over his, eyes burning gold as Noah is helpless beneath him and wide eyed; with a snarl of anger he brings the axe down, aiming for Noah’s fearful face.

The new mage who has Madelyn’s eyes freezes, tears gathering at her eyes as she jammed them shut, hunching in on herself so she doesn’t have to look; Felix stops his axe a breath from Noah’s face, the edge of the magical blade scratching softly at the skin between Noah’s eyes.

“Noooo~ah.” Felix sing-songs, the cheer back just as bright, as if they hadn’t just been fighting, Felix not even winded, “What was the first fucking thing Lilith and I taught you before we took you to the front?”

Noah is panting beneath Felix, eyes wide and tears are streaming down the sides of his face and into his hair line, and Sans feels confusion swell.

“What?” Noah pants, and no one else dares move, asking the same question Sans was.

Felix rolls his eyes, “What. Was. The. _First._ Thing Lil and I taught you before we took you lot to the front?”

Noah makes a weak noise, and licks his lips, eyes crossing to look at the edge of Felix’s axe, “Uh. It. It was. On the battlefield, show no mercy. You’ll only end up dead. Mercy is for after the fight.”

Felix’s mouth opened and closed, his head tilting to the side as his face scrunched up in confusion, “What? No it…was it?” he pauses, eyes looking up in thought, brows furrowed but the axe does not waiver, “Death, is that true?”

Lilith’s voice is cold and even, she hasn’t moved from her spot with her swords nestled at either side of Lucia’s throat, “Yes War. That’s true.” 

Felix’s brows furrow, his axe held steady, “Huh. Okay. What was the second thing we taught you?” 

Noah’s eyes flicked upwards as he thought, “Battle mages are strongest fighting with their Den, so, so always fight with your Den or squad.”

Felix blinked down at him, his frown deepening, “Death?”

“You’re thinking of the fourth rule War. Fuck, we lived by these rules of engagement for years how do you not remember them!” Lilith snapped at her brother, making Lucia flinch even when her blades are held steady.

Felix shrugged, “Had to drop something to make room for new stuff. Okay Noah, what’s the fourth thing we taught you.”

Noah swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his fear, “Don’t fall for obvious traps.”

Felix raises a brow at him, as it suddenly dawns on Noah what has just happened, “Oh.” His voice is small, and Felix shakes his head at him.

The axe is lifted away with ease to settle the handle lightly over Felix’s shoulder, and he flicks Noah between the eyes with his fingers, “Noah,” he sounds disappointed, “Come on. You know I’m annoying as fuck, but really? Your sister’s panties? I taught you better. You had to know the second you came at me, Lilith was going to step in.” his grin gets wider, “My big sister is _protective_.”

Lilith makes a little tsk and slowly lowers her swords from Lucia’s throat and steps off Benjamin’s; Lucia pulls her brother to his feet before they scramble back to the others, and Felix shakes his head at Noah, “I’m disappointed kid.”

Sans lets loose a slow breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, cursing Felix for his stupid fucking ideas. Lilith must have known what he was doing, must have known the moment Felix opened his big fucking mouth, figured out the plan without having to say a word to Felix because battle mages are fucking _weird_ like that and gone along with it.

Sans feels like he’s lost years from his life from the stress this has caused when all he wanted to do was nap the day away; he keeps Frisk pulled tightly to his side, and he can see Papyrus glancing over Ryder’s shoulder now that the fighting has stopped. 

He cursed under his breath, and his fingers itched to touch his mate.

Noah looks up with a flash of hurt as Felix pushes himself to his feet, then offers a hand down to Noah, “Come on kid, lets get you back to your Den.”

Noah’s mouth pulls into a grim line, but he reaches up to grasp at Felix’s forearm and he’s hauled back to his feet. Felix pulls him upright, and gives his arm a little squeeze, “You’ve not been training.” He almost scolds before he gives Noah a little shove back towards his Den, his voice bright that makes Lilith’s eyes roll, “Well that was fun.” 

Wide, frightened eyes flash at Felix, before Noah turns and limps back to the others, his proverbial tail tucked firmly between his legs. The new mage with Madelyn’s eyes reaches for him, tears are streaming down her cheeks as she touches his face desperately, her voice breathless, “Are you okay?”

Noah nods, scrubbing at his own face, hiding it, “Fine.” He sounds raspy and his throat thick, reaching blindly for her and Alice. Alice allows herself to be tucked against him, clinging on with gentle sobs; Lilith and Felix share a look, the micro expression in their faces there and gone so quick, that Sans can’t read them. 

The newcomer frowns at Noah, “This is not what we had planned, what where you thinking?” Noah shrugs at her words, looking down and ashamed, clinging to Alice.

Lilith and Felix share another significant glance before they sidestep to close the distance between them, and Felix is grinning at them again, “Hey Nadia.”

The newcomer looks to Felix with a start, dark eyes wide and fearful, she licks her lips and shoves Noah and Alice behind her, “H-hey Felix.”

Felix’s smirk grows wider, sharper and almost angry, “The fuck you doing here Nadia?”

Nadia’s eyes go wide, and the tears in her eyes finally slide down her face, “I’m so sorry.” She rasps, “Felix I’m so sorry.”

The grin falls, and shifting uncomfortably, Felix glances to Lilith, who is stone faced and unmovable, “For what?” he asks, shaking the confusion off.

Nadia shifts, trying to wipe the tears away, “For what…for what my sister did to you.” Felix flinches as if he’s been struck, “For what my Den wanted to do. For not seeing what Madelyn did was wrong, that she almost killed a whole lot of innocent people, that she almost killed you.”

Felix licks his teeth, eyes narrowed as Nadia’s eyes glance behind them, and she scrubs at her cheeks harder, “That she almost killed Lilith’s little bone friend.”

Lilith’s anger is broken with confusion and her brow furrows at Felix’s sudden endlessly amused look, “My what?”

Her confused words are ignored, for now, as Felix sneers at Nadia, “Okay so, your sorry. You telling me you came all the way here with battle mages to fucking apologise?”

Nadia cringes at his anger, and shakes her head no, “No. We. We came to warn you. Our Den, they want retribution, revenge. They plan…they plan on killing you.” 

Felix rolls his eyes, dismissing his axe to cross his arms, “Yeah, so? No fucking shit they are.” He spits. 

Nadia’s breathing hitches again, and Sans realizes just how much younger this Den is compared to his own Den, “We. We didn’t agree with it. Madelyn was _wrong_. She needed to be stopped.” There’s movement from where Nadia had come though the forest, and Sans feels his mages tense as another half dozen or so mages step hesitantly out. They cluster nervously around Nadia, shifting with nervousness and fear that Sans can read in every line of their bodies.

They’re afraid, very, very afraid.

Nadia licks her lips as her Den squeezes in behind her, and Sans feels his mages relax when they realize most are _children_.

“We couldn’t stand with our Den. Not if they were planning on revenge for something they don’t deserve to take.” Felix’s eyes go wide at her words, and Nadia looks down, “We couldn’t be apart of something like that.”

“You broke with your Den?” Felix whispers, truly shocked and Lilith sucks in a breath of air as if she’s just been punched.

Nadia nods, and the other mages at her back shift nervously, “Yes. We wanted to warn your Den before we moved on. You…you were more of a Coven to us then our own. You’ve taught most of us to survive the war, we thought to warn you before we…” Nadia shrugged, her words small, “We couldn’t go to our own Coven leaders, they would have sent us back to our Den.”

“You exiled yourselves.” Felix said gently, arms falling to his side, eyes wide with shock.

Nadia nodded, the mages at her back clumping tightly togeather, “Yes. We can’t go to our Coven.” She said again, eyes filled with tears, “We’re making our way to your Coven leaders to claim sanctuary before our Den catches up.” His breath shuttered, “But I wanted to apologise to you first, the battle mages were only supposed to scout a head, not engage.” She sent them dirty look, and the lot at least looked ashamed, “I knew you’d not be happy with us dropping in uninvited.”

Felix stares at her, mouth open in shock with angry eyes, “Did you fucking walk here?” he demands, his attitude shifting, his fury dampening as he steps back from the killing edge. Sans can see Lilith doing the same, her shoulders loosening, her face softening at the words the young mages say.

Felix glances to the burrs in Nadia’s hair as she sags, her head nodding, looking exhausted, “Yeah.” She says softly.

“You have fucking kids with you! I, what are you…fucking Fates Nadia!” Felix sighs exasperated, before he stares at her for a long, hard moment before he blinked at Lilith, who can only shrug helplessly at him with a shake of her head. His hard eyes turn back to the lot of exiled mages before him with a deep sigh and a curse, “Yeah, no. Sloooo~an?” Felix called to his sister, “I need an adult.” 

Sloan snorted, unfreezing from where she was carefully watching the battle mages, shaking away her own magic as she stepped forward between her two battle mages, “Of course you do.” The spell caster mouth twists into a smirk, before she nears the other mages, eyes shining azure as she reaches for her soul trait.

Their voices lower so that Sans can’t hear, and he glances to Lola as Sloan and Nadia speak in hushed voices. “Lola?” Sans says softly, eye-lights taking in the scene with a grain of salt and nerves, “Is this bad?”

Lola nods, her face pale with stress, “Yeah.” She whispers back, only loud enough for those on the porch to hear, “To leave one’s Den is a big thing. It’s just…”

“It’s not been done since the war.” Ryder hissed, “Only traitors left their Den.”

“It would be like one of us leaving, it’s unthinkable. It’s a slap in the face of the rest of the Den, the greatest of insults. Essentially saying their Den is so horrible they would rather leave, and turn their backs on everything and everyone they know then deal with the members of your Den. Cut off from the Coven for life.” Lola whispered, drawing frowns from the monsters around them, “There’s so many younglings among them.” She almost sounds hurt.

“There’s no guarantee that our Coven would take them in. It would be taking a stand against our very values, spiting in the face of the Silver Moon Den.” Ryder whispers, sounding a little breathless, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing, “And the Coven leaders care more about optics then the lives of mages that don’t belong to their Coven.” He frowns suddenly, “These kids would have no where else to go.”

Lola shakes her head no as well, the helpless, stricken look returned and Sans feels his soul twist, “No. They would need to join a Den within our Coven, be taken in under someone’s wing, making the whole Den a target for the Silver Moon.”

Sans frowns, his grip on Frisk tightening a little, “So these kids risked everything to take a stand and warn us. Now they have a target on their backs?” Lola nodded, looking grim, “That’s not fair!” he spits, despite Lola’s hurt face.

“It’s not.” She tells him softly, crossing her arms as if to hug herself.

Sloan steps away from the exiled Den of mages, frowning deeply, “They’re telling the truth. They’ve left their Den and intend on making their way to our Coven leaders.”

Felix sneers, anger flashing, “Yeah, and they’ll send these kids home. They won’t want to get involved with inter-Coven politics. Then what?” 

Nadia shivers, and Alice reaches for her the same time as Noah does. She leans back into both of them, gripping their hands tightly, “I don’t know.”

Lilith sighs, eyeing Naida as she clings to her lovers, “In the days of the war, you’d be executed. Now,” she shrugs, “I don’t know.”

Alice sobs, Noah trying desperately to sooth her, looking grim as Felix curses, “This is bull shit!”

Lilith nods, and rolls a shoulder to set it a little, “You know.” She said slowly, drawing everyone’s attention to her, “Our Den was decimated during the war.” By her mother, she doesn’t say but Sans already knows where she’s going with this and grins, “we have a massive territory and could use help to keep it safe. Wrathes are always a problem, mages causing issues, humans.” Lilith shrugs, glancing to Sloan and Felix, “We could use the help here. We could take,” she rolls her hand at the young mages, “A fresh Den under our wing.”

Felix beams at his sister like this is the best idea he’s heard all year, and there’s a flash of hope over their young faces of an exiled Den. 

“There’d be no need to go to our Coven leaders if we agreed.” Lola called out, head a little higher now, “The choice would be ours if we wanted to take on a fresh Den.”

Felix grins brightly, his cheer back with the flash of hope, “We’re fucking demanding though.” His cheerful voice is back when he nods to Nadia, “You’d be back to a real fucking ridged training schedule. Like, war time bull shit training. No more of this weak crap we saw today.”

Lilith nods along with him, and just like that, ready to take these foundlings in.

Its Noah’s voice, chocked and afraid that calls back, “It’ll paint a target on your backs. Our Den will never forgive you. You’ll have taken our side in the eyes of our Coven.”

“It’s not like they’ll never forgive us for what we did to Madelyn, what’s one more sin?” Lilith shrugs, dismissing her swords, “And that would be it exactly. We would be taking your side.” Her eyes glow like hellfire as power and magic crackle around her, “And you would have the backing of the Pandora Den, full stop.”

And that, Sans knows from experience, was quite the endorsement.

Nadia shifts, gripping onto Noah and Alice, “But…the Silver Moon mages…”

“The day we’re afraid of Silver Moon mages, will be a cold day in hell.” Sans calls out, drawing shocked faces from all around him. Lilith turned fully to gaze at him, the smile that grew on her face was for him and him alone when she beamed with pride at him, and he shot her a wink before her expression closed off again.

The foundlings stare at him with wide eyes, hope finally thawing those looks, “Really?” Nadia asked softly, afraid.

Lola was the one who sighed finally, shaking her head as if she shook off her anxiety, “Come along Nadia, lets get your lot fed and showered.” They look all look up hopeful at the prospect of food and a shower, “Then we can contact our Coven leaders to inform them of our decision.” Sans grins and relaxes, feeling Frisk peek out from his hoodie. Just like that, just like how they took the monsters in, the terrifying Pandora Den took a litter of strays and backed them, because it was the right thing to do.

Felix laughed as Nadia, Alice and Noah approached cautiously, tossing a heavy arm over Noah’s shoulders, making him wince, “We are going to ruin their fucking days!” he says brightly, making the other cringe as he lead them to the porch, “It’s going to be great!” 

“Wait.” Undyne calls out, yellow eye narrowed in suspicion that has everyone freezing, “You lot just beat the hell out of each other. Now your all buddy-buddy? Just like that?” a deep blue arm waved between the battle mages.

Lilith looked to Felix, then Noah and the twins, before looking back to Undyne with a shrug, “Battle mages be battle mages.” As if that explained everything, and maybe to them, it did because it had all the mages nodding along.

Undyne sputtered and Ryder let go a breath of air slowly. He turned and slid an arm around Papyrus, a move as claiming as any other, pulling Papyrus’s thin frame to his massive one, “This isn’t unusual behavior for battle mages, I promise Undyne.”

She huffed at the big mages, and that seemed to signal it was safe for the others to approach. Papyrus snuggled into his mates’ side slowly relaxing; trusting that Lilith and Felix wouldn’t invite someone into their home if they were a threat and gave the young mages a curious look, “Yes, they do seem to all be punchy, don’t they?” he mused out loud as Ryder nuzzled a soft kiss to his skull.

Papyrus shifted as the newcomers approached slowly, cautiously, and looked up at Ryder with uncertainty, “Do you think they will like me?” 

Ryder felt his heart squeeze at his mate’s insecurity, and Sans frowned. Ryder nuzzled another kiss against Papyrus’s skull, looking over his head and eyes flashing orange in warning to the approaching mages, “Of course they will Paps. Why don’t we help Lola get them something to eat?” 

Relaxing into his mate, Papyrus nodded, brightening and grinning up at Ryder, “Of course, a wonderful idea Sugarmuffin.” Ryder flushes bright red at the pet name, all the way from his hair line to his throat, drawing a snerk from his family who are promptly ignored as Papyrus relaxes again, “You’re so smart Ryder, but of course you are. You _are_ my mate, and the Great Papyrus has impeccable choice in men.” he said as his un-ending cheer and brightness returned, making Ryder melt a little.

Anxiety and fear slowly evaporated from the group, and the tension eased from Sans’s soul as Lilith climbed the porch steps, whole and unharmed, only a little bloody. She softened when she neared Sans, leaning down to press a kiss to his mouth despite the new onlookers suddenly awed at seeing Death nuzzling softly at her mate. 

Frisk reached for her sister when Lilith drew away, her hands still trembling but was quickly soothed when Lilith lifted her into her arms and squeezed the girl against her body, “You’re okay, it’s okay. It’s fine now.”

Frisk nodded, calming now that her sister was back and squirmed to be put back down; Lilith set her on her feet and relaxed a little, reaching down to take Sans’s hand, as much a claim on him as Ryder had on Papyrus; she turned, almost challenging eyes to gaze at the mages who where slowly climbing the steps, tucking Frisk behind her.

“Oh, Fate behold us.” Alice suddenly all but gasped from between Nadia and Noah, tiny hand clasped over her mouth as she beamed at them, “You’re adorable.” 

Sans grinned as her two mates stared down at her in open mouth shocked, the only one foolish enough to speak to Death with such boldness. Yet, Alice is staring in awe at them, legitimate happiness for someone that she clearly respected.

Lilith pauses, and Sans took a moment to watch her squirm a little at the genuine compliment, before she cleared her throat and said lowly, “Thank you Alice.” Awkward dork that she was, and Sans squeezed her hand when his soul swelled with love for his mate. 

Alice just beamed up at her, dragging Noah and Nadia past the thresh hold, and into the kitchen. Sans snorted, glancing up at his mate’s red face and led her in as well, his voice low, “You’re blushing.” He snerked.

It drew Lilith’s attention back to him, and she stuck her tongue out at him before a small smile curled at her mouth. She glanced around, seeing the side eyed glances the other mages gave her from those not bold enough to stare openly as Alice was. Lilith sighed, muttering “Fuck it.” Before she leaned down to press another kiss to his mouth, cupping his cheek as her tongue rolled over his in a deepening claiming kiss. Sans melted a little, despite the staring, knowing this was as much a statement as anything, orders if anything, that he is not to be harmed, that he belonged to Death as much as she belonged to him; and hey, if he got a kiss out of it, he was fine with it. Let them stare, he thought, he wasn’t going to hide how much he loved his girl.

They broke apart when Frisk’s face scrunched up and she mocked gagging noises from behind Lilith, making Sans laugh when his mate straightened up, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb. Lilith gave Nadia a curious look, still not letting go of his hand and Sans squeezed back at hers, “I do have one question.” She said as she sat at the table, Sans on one side, Frisk on her other.

Naida froze, eyes going wide from the door where she was ushering the others in. Sans’s head tilted, sockets narrowing; huh, spooked little thing of a mage wasn’t she?

“W-what is it Lilith?”

“Why’d you call Sans my little bone friend?” she asked, genuinely confused. Nadia tensed when Felix laughed behind her, moving to settle in on Frisk’s other side, earning a side eyed glare from Lilith.

Nadia brows furrowed in confusion, “It’s what Felix has been calling him.”

Lilith’s head snapped around to Felix’s grinning face, eyes flashing crimson, “What?” she hissed at him angrily.

Felix beams at his sister, eyes sparkling, and Sans knows he’s been waiting for this, “This is the best day ever.” He mock whispers to his sister, “Come on Lilith, Death is in love with a little _bone_ man.”

Lilith’s face fell flat, “ _Felix_.” She hissed, irritation finally surfacing at her younger brother.

“Come on Lil, don’t you want to be _boned_ by your man?” Sans smiles slowly, enjoying the delight on Felix’s face, even if Lilith looks like she’s ready to slap the shit out of him.

“Hey Sloan,” he calls as if he can’t help himself, “How tall is a skeleton?”

Sloan sighs, sounding put upon but Sans can see the smirk as she gets the kids settled at the table, “I dunno Felix, how tall?”

Felix beams, despite how the new mage stare in shock, “I dunno! Ask Lilith to measure him.”

Sans thinks he can hear Lilith’s teeth getting ready to break with how hard she’s gritting them, but Felix goes on, “Hey, Sloan, how many bones does a skeleton have?”

Sans can see where this is going, and already has a better answer, “A skele-ton.” He adds in, chipper and bright.

Felix pauses before he brightens again with laughter, and from the kitchen Sans can hear his brother’s sigh that seems to come from the very bottom of his soul; and if Ryder is laughing, Papyrus isn’t admitting it.

Lilith glowers at her brother, eyes narrowed, “Is this what you’ve been telling the Dens and Covens when you do see them?”

Around them, Sans can see the newcomers shift with worry as War continues to harass Death, but Sans can see there’s no real heat in Lilith’s eyes.

As Lilith and Felix devolve into childish bickering, Sans keeps hold of her hand and his soul swells with love. He looks carefully at the new faces in their kitchen and knows that this is the right thing to do, to help these kids. The Pandora Den will help get them settled and keep them out of an oppressive and aggressive Den who sided with a murder.

Sans relaxes into his chair and grins at his mate, eye-lights glancing over the frightened and dirty kids at their kitchen table, and he thinks, this time he can do the right thing for them. It won’t bring back the kids lost underground, but he doesn’t need to repeat history.

He melts a little when Lilith slides an arm over his shoulders as she continues to bicker with Felix, and he thinks that will need to be enough.


	13. Win Some. Lose Some.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Felix are just trying to have a quiet afternoon and catch up on gossip. Why's that gotta be so hard?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovlies, 
> 
> Another chapter of Five Months, and we're getting near the end. Two more before this story is done and the next arc starts. I'm super excited about the next arc, and I really hope you all enjoy it too. It's been super hard to not cut this story short and just jump right into it, haha! 
> 
> I'm pretty happy with how this chapter came out, world building can be so hard sometimes and I hope this helps fill in the gaps in mage culture and behavior a bit more. 
> 
> WARNING: there is a bit of discussion around Sans's rape, not in great detail.

Looking up at the sky with a bit of a frown, Sans watches the grey clouds roll in, knowing that it’s going to storm later. He can feel it in the air too, a coolness to it, a certain dampness to the cool spring day. Too bad, he’d been hoping to use his telescope to tell Lilith about some of the new constellations that appeared this time of year we she called later that night.

He pushes away the small swell of disappointment, after all, it could be worse all things considering, and there would be other clear nights. Squinting at the darkening clouds, he wouldn’t be surprised if a thunderstorm was rolling in and feels a pulse of excitement. After that first, horrifying experience with one, trembling the night away in Lilith’s arms, they had slowly grown on Sans. He liked to sit out under the porch and its tin roof with Lilith and watch them blow in; liked listen to the rain and fascinating by the forks of lightening strikes in the dark expanse of the sky.

He hoped for a storm. If he couldn’t give Lilith stars, he hoped he could give her lightning and knowing his freaky little battle mage, she’d prefer the storm.

Things had _actually_ been relatively quiet since the group of kids wound up on their doorsteps, the eldest of the bunch being Noah, Nadia and Alice, who as it turned out, barely fought in the war before it ended. They were closer to the Pandora Den then their own, after it had been them that ensured their survival.

Sure, their Den, The Silver Moon, had been less then pleased when it surfaced that Naida had led the whole lot of them to the Pandora Den and had demanded their immediate return. Both sets of Coven leaders had waited with abated breath for The Pandora to respond, and it had been _Lilith_ who had drafted the letter with glee.

It had been simple really, the letter that Lilith had sent to the Silver Moon mages, their Coven leaders and their own leaders; only reading ‘ _No. Fuck off, they’re mine now. Sincerely, Death of Pandora_

Sans wasn’t sure if his girl just had the biggest balls in Ebott to _actually_ send that as an official response from the Den, or if she had a foot into crazy-town, but it had gotten the point across. It had devolved into more politics between Coven leaders, and out of both Den’s hands.

In reality, The Silver Moon mages had little power in this scenario, as their way-ward exiles had made it clear they weren’t leaving, and the Pandora Den made it clear they weren’t giving them back. It was a contest of wills and Sans was putting good gold on his Den coming out of this victorious.

Shrugging it off, Sans swung into the shop he was looking for, Felix at his heels as the bell over head gave a merry little jingle as they stepped into the little café. Felix beamed as he looked around, stepping up next to Sans, his eyes wide and bright with an excited wonder that is typically never associated with the battle mage. 

It makes Sans grin at seeing the mage, who’s moniker is _War_ nearly vibrate with pure, childish excitement; Sans relaxes now that they’re off the street, he still has problems being in the open, it makes him anxious, but he’s getting better. Felix is a close second to Lilith, and he knows that his brother would burn this neighbourhood down to keep him safe.

Next to him, Felix makes an excited noise at the back of his throat, bouncing on his toes in delight like he can’t help himself. It makes Sans’s smile a little more genuine, shaking his head at the mage, “Go on, hop to it and take a look.”

Bright eyes, filled with what Sans can only describe as joy, glance to Sans before Felix is _tracing_ to the pastry stand, hands and nose pressed against the glass, nearly drooling. Shaking his head, Sans follows him at a much more sedate pace, looking into the bright and glistening pastries that Felix is fixated on.

He peers inside the case, glancing at the choices, his voice nonchalant, “Strawberry shortcake puffs, that’s the best thing.”

Dark eyes flick to the little puffs, and Felix moans, deep and filthy, “Saaa~ns!” he all but whines, staring at the light, flakey delights and the fluffy whip cream with the neatly sliced strawberries.

Sans chuckles, watching as Felix looks up when there’s movement at his eye-level, mouth falling open into a little O of surprise as he watches a fat little spiderling scurry across the top of the display case, “We can never bring Lilith here.” He says in awe, his smile growing, knowing he now has a secret place that Lilith can’t come to.

Sans nods, watching the spiderling run to the cash register as Muffet came from the back, her mouth pulling into a genuine smile to see him; and here was the real reason Sans would never bring Lilith here, it wouldn’t be fair to her or Muffet. It honestly had nothing to do with he and Muffet being fuck buddies underground, Lilith trusted him enough to not worry about them hanging out and had everything to do with Lilith’s sever arachnophobia.

“Sans!” Muffet cheers, hands going up in pleased surprise at seeing him, “Ahuhuhuh, it’s good to see you again.”

“Heya Muff.” He nods back just as cheerful, nodding towards the mage who was still drooling at the pastries, “Don’t think you’ve officially met, but this is Felix.” 

“Hey.” The mage says, sounding dazed and distracted, eyes wide and bright on the glossy pastries.

Muffet chuckled, not insulted, “Hello Felix. I believe we met briefly in October when those ruffians burned my shop down.” 

That draws the mage’s eyes away from the treats, an easy grin pulling at the side of his mouth as he straightens up to his full height. Cocking his hip he tucks his hands into his dark jean pockets, faux innocents oozing from him, “Yeah, we did. Glad to see you back on your feet.” His shoulders roll back with easy confidence, his black t-shirt stretching a little tighter across his chest.

Muffet grinned at him, “Ahuhuhu! Yes, the insurance came through quickly, and the help from your Den was muchly appreciated. I was able to have my shop gutted and re-built quickly.” Felix nodded, looking pleased as Muffet’s looks back to Sans, “So, when do I get to officially meet your human Sans?”

Guilt creeps into his soul, and he gives her a strained smile, “Uh, not sure Muff.” Sans squirms, and Felix smirks, probably taking a little enjoyment at watching him dance around the question without showing his hand. It was not a well-known fact outside the army, that Lilith was terrified of spiders, “She’s pretty busy.” He added lamely, the weak excuse made Muffet frown at him.

“Oh Sans,” she scolds, all of her arms crossing over her chest, “It sounds like you’re keeping her from me, Ahuhuhu!” Sans is sure he feels sweat gather at his forehead, and he glances away, licking at his teeth. Felix snorted, hiding his laugh in the guise of a cough and leaving Sans to hang.

“I’ll…check her schedule.” He tells her lamely, making Felix laugh again. Clearing his throat, he tries not to glare at the mage who is no help at all, “So Muff. This is Felix’s first time here.” It’s not the smoothest transition, but it’s effective.

Muffet gives him one last shrewd look, before she turns that delighted expression to Felix, “Of course, dearie. You must have so many questions!”

Felix relaxes at the bright tone, his stance loosening and shoulders dropping, “They look tasty.” He gives her a crooked grin, cool and at ease.

Sans smirks when he sees Muffet blush, and she clears her own throat, a little flustered, “Of course dearie, everything is made in house! Made by spiders, for spiders and out of spiders.”

Felix raises a brow, “Out of spiders?” his voice is smooth and low, his grin widening, and Sans shakes his head at the mage.

Muffet seems flustered for a moment, the low baritone voice rumbling pleasantly in the small café that has even Sans shivering a little, the brat that he is, “Ahuhuhu, yes dearie. Out of spiders. You see,” a clawed hand strokes along the spiderling’s back, the little creature purring and pressing into her touch, “spiderlings have such short lives. Here and gone within a number of weeks, trying to leave a better world for their children then they found it.”

The grin fell a little from Felix’s mouth as he gives Muffet his undivided attention, no jokes this time, as she continues with true joy in her voice, “Spiderlings love to bake, love to teach their skills to their children and when they leave this world they want to be apart of the thing they love the most. When we bake, we sprinkle a little of their dust into the batter of each and every pastry we make. It gives them a little something special.”

Felix blinks at her and Sans braces a little, knowing that Muffet gets protective of her bakery and spiderlings, and he isn’t sure how Felix will react to eating spider dust. He probably should have warned him ahead of time, but hindsight and all that.

Sans relaxes when Felix grins, feels relief all the way down to his toes to know that he wasn’t going to be pitched from the only monster bakery in town and Felix wasn’t going to get banned.

“Neat.” The battle mage chirps happily, the grin curling back around his mouth, “Well, in that case,” he glances to the display case again, eyes bright, “Can we get two of everything?” he turns that flirtatious grin back at her, “Maybe I’ll even be good and share with the Den.”

Muffet’s eyes go wide, mouth falling open in surprise as a lavender blush scalds her cheeks, “O-of course dearie! Ahuhuhu, you take a seat and I will get your order.”

Sans stops himself from rolling his eye-lights, if only just, before adding, “Thanks Muff. Could we get two coffees and two strawberry puffs to dine?”

“Of course, Sans.” She waves him off good naturedly, allowing him to take an open seat near the big, bay window that looked out into the street. Perfect place to people watch, and the preferred place for battle mages to keep a look out.

With one last grin and a wink, Felix pulls his chair up across from Sans, looking proud with a wide smirk and his eyes sparkling. He wonders if Felix knows that he and Muffet had been friends with benefits. Probably not, Sans decides, knowing that Felix’s loyalty was to the Den first and foremost, “So, you and Muff?” he asks lightly.

Felix snorts, leaning forward on the table to lower his voice and toy with a thumb nail, “Nah. I wouldn’t do that to Lil. Don’t get me wrong, she’s cute.” Bright eyes glance back to her, before they’re back on Sans, “But I can’t see Lilith suddenly being okay with her, you know being a spider and all. Fate knows that Lilith would _try,_ would probably drive herself into hysterics and a breakdown if it meant I would be happy but I’m not gonna do that to either of them.”

He gives himself a bitter smile as Felix looks down and away from Sans, “Learned that lesson the hard way when Madelyn turned out to be a fucking bigot.” He heaved a sigh, “The irony of ironies.” 

Sans frowns, seeing the self blaming, the self hatred in Felix’s face, knew what it looked like from seeing it in his own expression in the mirror. Knows that Felix still beats himself up for even _liking_ someone who thought less of the monsters, but mostly thought less then of Sans, Papyrus, Undyne and Al; at the end of the day, Felix _always_ puts the Den before even his own happiness, “How are the kids doing?” he asks, side-stepping towards safer topics to lighten Felix’s soul.

He knows it’s worked when Felix’s face brightens, “Ah, the kids’ll be alright.” The self hatred fades and Sans relaxes at that, “Did’ja hear what they’re naming themselves?”

A fat little spiderling carefully lowers a set of coffee mugs in front of eat of them from the ceiling, only furthering Felix’s delight, “No.” Sans mildly, carefully pulling off the spider silk threads to take a mouthful of his coffee, Felix quick to mimic him.

The grin on Felix’s mouth brightens a little more, “Guess they wanted to distance themselves completely from the Silver Moon, but still a nod to their Coven, calling themselves Trillium Moon now.” Felix laughs darkly, taking a mouthful of his own coffee, eyes brightening, “Oh, this is good!” he’s sounds pleased, taking another mouthful before adding, “It’s a delightful combination of a slap in the face to their Den, and standing on their own.”

Sans snorts, look amused, “’Corse it is.” the puffs come next, nestled carefully on a plate as they’re lowered with the utmost care, “Where’d they end up settling?”

Felix rubbed at his face, eyes flicking up in thought, “Hmmm, ‘bout forty minutes west of the compound.” He gave a little shrug, “It’ll be good for the older mages to be out on their own, they don’t need us hoovering all the time, and if they’re gonna do this, they need to do it right. The independence will be good for them.” Felix’s grin became a little sharp with dark amusement, “I mean, we’ll help support them. Lola helped enrolled the younger kids into school, and I set them all up with a _killer_ training regiment that they aren’t dumb enough not to follow, but they’ll settle where they are.”

There’s a swell of gold in Felix’s eyes, that grin becoming sharper when too many teeth are flashed like a dog, “The compound is near the centre of our territory, lots of places do drop them if we need to push them further in if we need to, but the Silver Moon would need to come in through Hollindale to get to them. We’re between Hollindale and the town we plunked the kids, so they’d, quite literally, have to come through us.”

Sans nods along, Felix finally taking a bite of his pastry, eyes going wide before sinking closed with a loud, filthy moan that made Muffet look up with a blush and Sans eyes widen, “This is so good.” He mutters around his bite of the pastry, licking his fingers clean, “Anyways. The town we plunked them in, Centreville, has a high population of goblins and tenome. The tenome can protect themselves, but the goblins are pretty vulnerable, lots of mages from the Kehtor Coven like to come looking to take tails and ears. Having the Trillium Moon there will dissuade them.”

Sans nodded, breaking off a chunk of his own pastry, “That’s good, keep the kiddos busy.” He popped a piece of the pastry past his teeth, talking around the sweet strawberry that nearly melted in his mouth, “How long will the girls be gone?”

Felix shrugs, “Three days tops? Sloan is helping them settle in with the town folk, Lilith is going through patrol and training exercise. Lola’s going over schedule and check in procedures.” He rolled his eyes, “This shit is the boring part of having a Den under our wing, and in our territory, figuring it all out. The kids’ll need to check in with us twice a day at the start, and for the first little while we’ll dole out the assignments to them until they get their feet under them. Get the layout of the land, blah, blah, blah.” Felix flaps his hand, sounding board.

Pausing, Sans picks at his pastry, hesitantly asking, “You don’t hold a grudge against Nadia?”

“Nah, not’s not like she tried to fucking kills me. No use in holding it against her when it was her sister that tired to merc me.” Felix shrugged, not at all holding a grudge against the kid, pickup in the little pastry with a frown, “One of us’ll drive out there daily for a while yet to make sure they’re doing okay. Should only be a day thing, make sure they’re settling in and not having problems. I’m guessing Lilith will bring you with her, it’ll be good for the citizens of Centreville to get used to seeing monsters.” he shrugged and shoved the rest of his pastry into mouth, cheeks puffing out to make space as he forced his jaws to chew, “’Ucking ‘ood.” He moaned around the flaky pastry, before he managed to swallow the whole thing.

Even Sans had to pause at that as Felix took a mouthful of coffee and frowned with what must have borderline disgust, “Don’t you need to breath? How did you not choke?”

With a grin, Felix shrugs, “No gag reflex, it’s why I’m popular with all the boys.”

Sans snorts, his mouth moving faster then his brains, “Name of your sex tape.” He says nonchalantly, first making Felix freeze, then burst into laughter.

“Fucking Fate, it would be.” He laughed, thumbing the rim of his mug.

Muffet looked up at his deep, rumbling laughter, Sans spotting her from the corner of his sockets and part of him _is_ a little sad that they wouldn’t have worked out. Felix was the right kind of crazy for Muffet, and in the end, Sans just wanted his friends to be happy. He didn’t have many of them, and the ones he did, he wishes the world for.

He just wanted Felix to be happy too, stars knew the mage deserved a bit of a break after the last few months he had. Sans had lost count of how many lovers had tired to kill him or use him. 

Eh well, plenty of fish in the sea as it were.

It brought another thought to San’s mind, and he frowned at his coffee as he took a deep breath to collect himself, “Hey Felix?” the mage took another mouthful of his coffee, making a noise in the back of his throat, indicating that he was listening, “I’ve got a question about mage culture.”

Felix blinked up at this light voice, head tilting, “Sure, go for it.”

Sans nodded, “Right. So, like, Nadia, Alice and Noah?

“Hmm.” Felix nodded along, head tilting as if to ask where Sans was going with this.

“They’re like…together, yeah?” Felix hesitates at his question, not fully understanding at first before Sans sees something click in his eyes, and he makes a noise of acknowledgment.

“Ah, I get what you mean.” Felix shrugs, squaring his shoulders and Sans doesn’t like how he’s bracing himself, like this has been something that Felix has not had a great reaction too, “The magic that binds Dens and Covens affect each mage a little differently.” He says slowly, “Like our Den, we see each other as brothers and sisters. I _knew_ from the moment I saw Lilith and Lola on the battlefield, those were my sisters and I would do anything to keep them safe. There’s no…attraction between us.”

Felix gives him a little shrug, thumbing his mug again before continuing cautiously, “But when mages are mates, it feels…different. Apparently. A different connection, the magic is…not deeper, just _different_ and sometimes those feeling, and bonds can spread to multiple partners.” He buys himself a little bit of time as Sans watches him with a frown by taking a mouthful of coffee, “Its not unusual to find triads or quads among mages.”

Sans frowns into his own mug of coffee, the idea not really bothering him, just unexpected, “So. Can mages partner with others that _aren’t_ Den mates?”

Felix nods, eyes going sad briefly, “Sure. Lots of mages are making their own Dens or take lovers or training with older mages that they don’t have a connection with. War decimated our numbers and it’s getting harder to find real Den mate.” He looks out the window when a tall, thin fay with long pink wings and blonde hair walked down the road by the café, her hand around her daughter’s as they made their way. Felix tracks them carefully and Sans knows he’s watching for any threats to him, “Just like our kiddos, it’s not uncommon now to see Den’s taking younglings who want to get out from under their parents’ thumb to train.”

Sans nods along, his frown pulling a little deeper, “But, you haven’t had anyone ask to be trained by you before? I figured you’d have tons of mages wanting to learn from you.”

Snorting, Felix’s face contorted into something bitter, “Nah, they’re afraid of us.” Felix’s smile becoming sharp enough to cut, “We’re the stories that parents tell their kids to get them to behave. Go to bed or Death will come for you. Eat your vegetables or War will stalk you. Behave, or we’ll give you to Pandora.”

Felix shook his head and took a mouthful of coffee. Sans felt his soul drop a little, sockets narrowing a little, there was something just cruel about those words. “Eh, it’s not like we haven’t fed into those rumors.” Felix continues, “be the shark in the ocean, and very few people fuck with you.”

Sans snorts, watching a human and his goblin boyfriend walk down the street, sees Felix tracking them, “Except it’s not exactly been peaceful since we surfaced.” 

Sans doesn’t mean to sound bitter, he doesn’t but he can’t help it. Felix shrugs, still watching people mill about in the street, “Yeah well, our disappearance from our territory didn’t do us favors.” He shrugs, “Still, things are better now then they were after the war ended.” He snorts bitterly, “After we came home, we were dealing with shit like what happened at the winter market almost daily. So, you know. Shit could be worse.”

Sans doesn’t know how to feel about that, doesn’t know if he should be grateful that he’d have been trapped underground just after the war or not, but he _hates_ that so many were afraid of his Den because of what they did in the name of the Coven. 

“If your worried,” Felix says suddenly, gold eyes focused on the street outside the window and the dark clouds rolling in, “Don’t be. Lilith loves you, and I haven’t seen my sister love someone so deeply ever. Your bond is solid as hell, she wouldn’t bring someone in that _you_ didn’t approve of first.”

Sans can suddenly see the way Felix is stiff, his shoulders tense in a way they hadn’t been before, and suddenly a lot makes sense, why Felix’s hesitation makes sense. Sans shakes his head no, “Nah, I’m not worried about Lilith that way.” He gives Felix a rueful grin, “I mean there’s a lot to worry about, no need to go and borrow trouble.” 

Near instantly, Felix relaxes with a nod, “Yeah.” And his face softens in a way that Sans has never seen from the battle mage, “She really does love you.”

Sans grins back up at him, his own features softening, and he knows he’s got that dopy, lovesick look on his face, “Yeah, I know.” 

Felix nods, relaxing back into his chair drinking deeply from his cup, and Sans can’t help but find himself relaxing as well, soothed that Felix wasn’t upset or stressing at his questions. Glancing through the window, Sans barely registered that the door to the café opened, the merry bell chiming happily as he studied the darkening clouds.

Frowning, Sans mused that they might have to short cut back to Felix’s jeep if they didn’t want to get caught in the rain, those clouds were getting pretty dark.

Distinctly, Sans noticed Felix lowering his mug, thought nothing of it as he finished his coffee until he started to _growl_ low in his throat like a large animal. Turing his head, Sans felt himself frown, confusion flickering into concern when Felix was looking at someone over Sans’s shoulder, eyes narrowed into furious slits and intently glaring someone down with the same ferocity of a large cat about to go in for the kill.

Inky black magic spreads slowly over the sclera of Felix’s eyes, blacking out his eyes with his vice, shoulders hunching as he pushed himself away from the table not so subtly, looking like he was ready to pounce.

Sans stilled, unease piercing his soul at the hyper aggressive reaction of a battle mage who was throwing off some serious _fuck off_ vibes. Taking a breath, Sans turned, bracing for whoever was behind him, whoever was enticing such an aggressive response from Felix.

Felix’s growl turned deeper when he twisted in his chair, something over lapping his own deep baritone, something other wordily as the demon with in bubbled to the surface; it’s being twisted with Felix’s, knowing it was just as affectionate towards the Den. Just as viciously protective.

Sans feels himself freeze when he turns and sees chocolate brown fur, long floppy ears and eyes that were painfully familiar to him as Bobby Bunny stared back at him with Oliva’s wide, frightened eyes. _~~Did her eyes look like that when Lilith killed her? Or when Chara tortured him?~~_

Shifting uncomfortably, Bobby licks his lips and looks down, ears drooping; at the counter Muffet has stilled and at Bobby’s back are three of his cousins looking just as shocked and stricken. Sans hadn’t spoken to most of the bun family since they surfaced, and they all seemed to accept the unspoken agreement of steering clear of each other. Sans didn’t go looking for them, and they didn’t seek him out, easy on the surface. 

This had not been intentional, and the four rabbit monsters are glancing nervously between Sans and the angry battle mage at _his_ back, knowing that if push came to shove, Felix would step between Sans and the buns, and they’d be sweeping them off the faux marble floors. 

Bobby looks down, grasping at his own arm with a trembling hand, “Sans.” His voice wobbles, and Felix’s growling deepens, almost as if to say that Bobby shouldn’t dare to speak his name.

“Bobby.” Sans nods his head, still afraid to move and trigger a defensive response from Felix when his control was so shaky.

Bobby swallows, and seems to decide that Sans addressing him is a sign that it’s safe to approach; it’s a poor life choice, and the moment Bobby shuffles a little closer to Sans, Felix shoots to his feet quick enough the it tips the chair he was in backward.

Every one flinches when the chair clatters to the ground, and Sans’s head snaps back to Felix; he’s on his feet, eyes pitch black with the face of a horned demon flashing over his own, spiraled spikes at his shoulders are like a brief hologram as a little more of Felix is given over to the creature inside, his hands planted on the table as if were planning to vault over it and Sans.

Sans swallows, his voice steady when he slowly, very slowly turns back to Bobby, “Back up.”

Bobby’s eyes are wide and fearful, pupils dilated as he focuses on Felix; he does as Sans orders and takes a few wide steps backwards. He raises his hands, fingers spayed wide to show that he’s not hiding anything.

Nodding, Sans turns back to Felix, squaring is shoulders like he’s seen Lilith do a thousand times and tries to straighten his spine, trying to pretend to be as brave as he sometimes thought he was, “Felix.” He shivers and fights the urge to hunch when those violent, black eyes turn to him and pin him with a cold, dead-eye’d glare, “It’s okay. Stand down.”

Felix’s head tilts, the low growl petering out as he studies Sans; he doesn’t move, doesn’t dare do a thing to trigger an aggressive response from Felix until the mage huffs a breath like a big dog and takes a step back from the table. A little of his anxiousness unwinds when he sees Felix relax a little, the demon retreating back inside, leaving only the mage, cold and angry, arms crossing over his chest.

Sans breaths a little sigh of relief but isn’t fooled into thinking that Felix is completely calm.

Whelp, a good guest knows when they’ve overstayed their welcome and Sans knows it’s time to hit bricks, “Hey Muff, how’s our order coming?”

Muffet swallowed eyes glancing to the buns and back to Sans, she clears her throat, “It’s all ready.” Her voice is small, eyes flickering nervously to Felix as she shifts uncomfortably, gripping a little too tightly to the pretty pink box that has their treats inside.

The edges have been a little crumpled with how hard she’s gripping the box, but Sans doesn’t say anything about it. Well, so much for Muffet and Felix even being friends if she’s this terrified of him.

Sans moves slowly, telegraphing his movements for Felix’s benefits as he slowly approaches the counter to take the box, the mage’s eyes still hyper focuses on Bobby. Muffet’s hands are trembling when she slides the box across the counter, and Sans hands over the gold.

Muffet’s voice is low and trembling, afraid to draw those cold eyes to her and draw attention to herself and her spiderlings “Y-you and Felix are welcome back here at any time, okay Sans?”

Some of the hurt that Sans didn’t realize he was carrying, unwinds from his soul and it draws the smallest of grins from him, “Thanks Muff.” They are at least still friends, and this hasn’t turned Muffet off from Felix, “I’ll see you around?”

She nods at him, “Of course Sans.” Then, rallying her courage, she turns to Felix, “Goodbye Felix.”

She flinches when those inky eyes turn on to her, and it seems to take Felix a moment to sort through what she means. He blinks at her slowly, before giving her a small nod of thanks, not trusting his own voice to not frighten her.

The buns have backed up, as far from the door as they can get, backs pressed into the wall behind them, eyes averted to give the angry battle mage space. Sans picks up their box of treats and his voice doesn’t waiver when he calls out, “Lets go Felix.”

The mage huffs again, picks up the chair and slides it back under the table they were sitting at, not taking his eyes from the group of buns the whole time, they were way too close to Sans for Felix’s liking, and he’s grateful when Sans waits for him to be at his back before he moves near the door.

Nodding to himself, Sans makes for the door, Felix at his back, and part of him isn’t sure if Lilith would have been any better; they’re at the door, his hand on the small knob when Bobby seems to have a fucking death wish and takes a step away from the others.

Sans freezes when he takes a few steps towards them, he feels Felix puff back up behind him with another snarl. He moves to step around Sans, the only thing stopping him is when Sans’s hand snaps out to grab his bicep to keep him in place.

Felix still, but his skin burns like a fever under San’s phalange; he knows the battle mages run hot, but if he had to hazard a guess, Felix is running a little hotter as he reaches for more magic in response to what he sees is a threat.

Bobby stills, swallows his fear down hard before he speaks softly, “So, uh. I’ve…my aunts got me into therapy when we came to the surface.” He says slowly, and Sans frowns at him.

“Okay.” He shifts uncomfortably, not liking to be so close to Bobby.

“And uh.” He continues hesitantly, and part of Sans is impressed. Felix is an intimidating figure, even without his reputation and right now he’s on the verge of stepping into the killing edge, “I-I’ve realized I hurt you. Especially just after…” he pauses and squirms uncomfortably, “I said things that weren’t fair. But you gotta understand,” the deep soul growling is back from behind him, and Sans has to agree with Felix on that one. Sans doesn’t have to understand shit. “It was my mom. I couldn’t just…I know that she…”

Sans’s own sockets narrow, his grip on Felix getting a little tighter. Bobby continues in a shaky voice. “I just…I’m sorry. For what I said. For the…rumors. I didn’t know…what my mom did to you. I just…I’m sorry.”

Sans stares at him, he can feel Felix growling next to him, feel the heat from the battle mages body as he steps ever closer to the killing edge, that point of no return and Felix’ll dust him.

His soul twists, and he doesn’t know how to feel. He doesn’t know if he could forgive Bobby for what he did, or even if he should. They say forgiving is part of healing, but it was hard. Hard when Bobby turned a lot of the citizens of the underground _against_ him with his lies, claiming that Oliva didn’t rape him. Cast doubt on his word that still made it hard on _him_ in some circles despite that Oliva stood with Flowey and Chara.

Sans square’s his shoulders with a frown, and if his phalange tremble as he grips at Felix, who doesn’t say a thing about it. “Okay.” He says quietly, deciding that, at least for now, he doesn’t have to forgive Bobby for what he did, but he doesn’t need to hate him anymore either. He can let go of that broiling anger and loathing of the bun, not for Bobby’s sake, but his own.

He’s not going to let that deep seeded hostility ruin him.

He doesn’t know what Bobby is hoping to hear from him, forgiveness maybe, but Sans doesn’t particularly put his feelings as a high priority, “See ya around Bobby.”

His face falls a little, but he nods and steps back as Sans pushes his way through the door, pulling Felix with him into the cool spring day with rain in the air, the little bell jingles over head as they make good their escape.

Sans doesn’t let go of Felix’s arm; his hand wrapped around Felix’s muscular limb hard enough to bruise the skin as Sans leads him back to the jeep. Felix follows along obediently, his head on a swivel, constantly looking for a threat, hyper vigilant. He’s enough of a terrifying force that any who happen across their path quickly cross the road, avoiding them completely until Sans can get them back to the jeep and bully Felix into the driver side.

Sans shortcuts directly into the passenger side, breathing hard, his hands shaking but relieved that they made it without further incident, trying to relax in the plush leather, holding onto the pink box tightly. Eye lights glance sideways to Felix, who is still staring blankly out the front window, hands gripping the steering wheel tight enough that his knuckles have gone white. “Felix?”

“Gimme a sec.” he rumbles, and Sans doesn’t shiver at the layered voice, hearing the demons thumbing along side of Felix’s.

Sans nods, settles into the seat, his own soul pulsing a little too quickly, a little too hard, but knowing he’s safe here with Felix, who’s second only to Lilith. Licking his teeth, Sans kicks his shoes off to prop his bony feet up on the dashboard, striving to seem relaxed, sockets closing to try to nap while Felix comes back to himself.

Sleep is his best distractor, his preferred coping mechanism when things are beyond his control, when his anxiety is clawing at his soul and he doesn’t know what to do. Drifting off is easy when he knows he’s completely safe and Felix won’t leave when he’s vulnerable.

He doesn’t dream when he dozes off, something he’s grateful for and isn’t looking forward to the nightmares that seeing Bobby are probably going to bring bubbling back up, doesn’t know how long he’s asleep when the jeep rumbles to life and wakes him.

Rubbing the stringy drool from the side of this mouth, Sans looks to Felix, relieved when he sees clear, gold eyes and his usually pert mouth tugging down into a frown.

Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Sans yawns, “You with me?” they’re words he’s picked up from Lilith, and they seem to mean something to the battle mages.

It means something to Felix. He sighs and nods, “Yeah, I’m with you.” He puts the jeep into drive, and backs out of their spot, “Sorry ‘bout that.” His voice has lowered, and Sans frowns when he thinks he hears a little hurt there.

Popping the jeep into drive, Felix maneuvers them to the mouth of the parking lot when Sans says, “Don’t be.” He shrugs, knows that battle mages are protective and are easily riled when they feel their own are being threatened, “Thanks for having my back.” Enough of the underground wouldn’t have. 

Felix looks over at him startled, eyes bright when the frown slowly crawls into a grin, “Anytime Sans. You know I’ve got you.”

Sans nods, “Yeah, I know.” And that seems to sooth any lingering doubts Felix might have, and his grin is back in full force, a little less sharp then it usually is with affection. It sooths any lasting fear or anxiety from Sans’s soul and he melts into the seat. 

Felix pulls them out into traffic before he asks, “So, have I been banned from the café?”

Sans snorts and shakes his head no, “Nah, you made enough of an impression that Muff’s decided you can come back.”

Felix brightness, “Neat! Don’t think I could survive without those treats for a lifetime.” Felix gives him a rueful grin, “Pretty sure it’s my face that’s letting us come back.” 

Snorting, Sans shakes his head at Felix and relaxes completely into his seat, settles the box of goodies in his lap to nap the rest of the way home, knowing that they’ve lost some and won some today. 

Eh, oh well. At least they’ve got their goodies so share with the others back home.


	14. A Little Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans makes a mistake during a crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! 
> 
> We're getting to the end of the story, just one more chapter to go after this. I hope you've enjoyed the ride so far and have a better understanding of the world that Sans and company live in. 
> 
> I think this is a chapter that a lot of people have been waiting for, and I'll admit I had a bit of writers block with this one so I hope it's come out alright. 
> 
> Some warnings in this one: brief mention of Sans's rape, not graphic but be mindful that it's there. 
> 
> Other wise, enjoy.

There were few things about the surface that Sans didn’t love, adore and treasure. Even the uncomfortable things, the things that applied stress and ran him bone thin. Most of those few, uncomfortable things, he got used to.

The awkward amount of space still made him uneasy, too much room for an attack, too many vantage points to cover them all. The sheer amount of choice still made him shut down in the grocery store even still, and really, who the fuck needed to choose from eight different ketchup brands and fourteen different toilet paper brands? Really?

Yet, despite all that, despite all the setbacks and challenges, Sans wouldn’t change it for the world. He wouldn’t go back underground, wouldn’t even entertain the idea that he _could_ go back. Wouldn’t even visit, hell to the no on that one; even if Toriel wanted to turn the cave into a historical site, preserve it for some fucked up reason Sans couldn’t wrap his mind around.

The underground had taken enough from him, thanks, he didn’t need his kids, any of them, to go back to _learn._

Thanks, no thanks.

Still, there were things on the surface he wasn’t exactly fond of. Things that went beyond discomfort and unease and bordered into something that was closer to dislike, but maybe not quite hate. Now, to be fair, these also seemed to be things that everyone disliked universally, so Sans figured he got a pass here.

Lilith’s elbow, sharp into his ribs, woke him from his light sleep; he grunted as he woke, making a weird little snuffle-snort as he jerked upright, his head coming up off his chest as the choir they were watching continued to sing off key.

He wiped the drool off the side of his mouth with the sleeve of his sweater, sucking back some of the magic as he blinked drowsily at the little stage. Lilith leaned over, voice low so that only he could hear her, “If I’m suffering through this, then so are you.” She sounds amused, her breath warm against his cheek; he can’t help but sigh and lean his skull against her shoulder to cuddle in.

His sockets are already sinking closed again when Lilith snorted, rubbed her cheek against his skull, pressing a kiss where her mouth can reach, “Stay awake.” She muttered against his skull.

Sans hummed, twisting his skull to press his teeth as a kiss to her shoulder, “You know, I _do_ know a shotcut outta here.”

Lilith snorted, the sharp noise covered when the children finished their song and the parents clapped politely; Sans was sure that school plays, school pageants and shows were a thing from the fucking Nether. Long and boring, and apparently it was in bad taste to only stick around for your own kids’ performance, leaving Sans to suffer along with the Den through everyone else’s routines. 

At least next month was the science fair, and that was at least something Sans was looking forward to seeing his kid kick ass at.

“That’s rude.” Lilith muttered back, and she still sounds amused, maybe even tempted. Its not like this is the first show they’ve suffered thought, it seemed like every month either Frisk, Fuku, or MK where in some kind of something that would bring all the parents and guardians to the school.

Say what they will about the Pandora Den, cruel and vicious, for sure but they also loved Frisk with all their power and dark souls, and unless the world was ending they never missed a single pageant; Frisk had been asking about joining a team sport with Fuku and MK, hockey, Sans was sure and he didn’t doubt that the mages would be at every game and practice like it was a new religion.

“Come on, no one will notice.” He mutters back, “Look, Felix is fucking talking to his little body snatching friend, he didn’t even clap.”

Lilith looks over to her brother, whose sitting between Sloan and Lola, there’s a big camera nestled in his lap and ready to be turned on the moment Frisk comes on the stage like the worlds scariest, yet most endearing big brother. For now, Felix is staring blankly at the stage, eyes wide and glossy, flicking between dark brown and bright gold, and there was no doubt was chatting merrily with his demon.

Lilith laughed as the children on stage bowed, earning a glare from the parents a row in front of them, Lilith quick to offer a small grin and a mouthed _sorry._ Sans snickered quietly at her as she settled back in next to him in the uncomfortable plastic chairs, earning another nudge, “Don’t be a jerk!” she hissed at him, there’s no heat in her voice and he can hear the smirk. 

“Hear me out evil mage,” Sans whispers back, his voice a little more excited, a smirk curling around his mouth, “we could pop out, get coffee and be back in these very seats before anyone would notice.”

“Sloan would notice.” Lilith shoots back almost instantly, and it makes Sans roll his eye lights.

“Sloan would never betray us like that.”

“Of course, she would.” Lilith whispers back, voice popping up an octave in mocking disbelief, “We would be abandoning her!”

The same parents turn and shush them, and this time its Sans who gives them an apologetic smile. They turn back to the stage with another glare and settle. Giving him a look, Lilith mouths _you got me in trouble._

Sans pulls a face, that makes her pull back a laugh until her face goes red and he wonders if she’ll pop a lung keeping that sucked back. _You got us in trouble!_ He mouths back, earning an eye roll.

A siren steps nervously onto the stage, her little hands wringing as she steps up to the mic; she clears her throat, before she begins to sing softly, her voice a little stronger then the choir but not by much.

“Okay come Lili, you’re really not gonna let me fall to this sirens song and nap?”

Lilith snorts, “Sirens lead men to their deaths via drowning with their voices.”

“The ultimate sleep.” Sans presses, earning another snort.

Lilith’s mouth opens to snark back at him, and fuck he loves when she snarks at him, when he can draw that personality out of the layer of ice she’s been forced to carry since the war, when something inhuman shrieks. It’s loud and piecing that makes even the bricked walls of the school gym shutter.

The mages sit up a little straighter, bodies going stiff as they crane around in their seats to look at the doors; Sans feels his soul pulse in panic as the poor little siren’s voice sputters out and it’s loudly quiet in the gym, the faint echo of the shriek in their minds eye. Lilith is still next to him; any softness is gone as her eyes blaze crimson and her hand has fallen to his knee in a tight grip.

Sans hears the little siren’s voice hitch at the mic as there’s the cry of a dragon outside, a battle cry to draw its brethren to the city. Felix shoves his camera into his inventory long before anyone else moves or begins to realize they should be panicking, and launches himself over his seat, landing in a run. His armor already settling lightly over his body, summoning his axe with the flick of his wrist before he’s even hit the heavy metal doors of the school gymnasium. Ryder and Papyrus are at his heels, just as quick and graceful, and Sans feels his soul twist at seeing his baby brother follow his mate into battle, but Ryder will care for Papyrus before even the city.

Sloan is on her feet next as Lola stumbles, her foot caught around the leg of her chair before she’s after her brothers; Sloan’s hands go up to pacify the people who have only just begun to realize there’s an issue, magic gathering at her throat and when she speaks it’s like she’s speaking through a microphone.

“Be calm.” She orders before even the first person can scream, “Below the school is a shelter that is charmed for your protection for just this occasion. All will be well but lets everyone head to the left exits as calmly as we can. Yes, that’s it, to the exits.”

Her voice is smooth and calm, speaking in small words like she’s speaking to children, ushering the near panicking adults to where they needed to go. Lilith and Sans turn to each other at the same time, her armor already hardening into reality around her heavy frame.

They both open their mouths at the same time, as if to speak and pause at the same moment. Lilith laughs a little nervously, and Sans knows she hates saying goodbye, “Is it the fog?”

“No, wrathe’s. Sounds like it might be hogs, big fuckers with tusks. They’ll feed the dragons for some time.” She gives a little shrug.

Sans nods, his hand catching her armored wrist to keep her there a moment longer, “I’ll get Frisk home.” He promises and knows he can do that much to sooth her worry.

He knows he’s hit his mark when Lilith relaxes a little and nods, “Thanks love, don’t forget the compound is enchanted but it’s battle ready protective spells will have been triggered. You’ll be stuck in whatever room you’re in until the threat has been dealt with.”

Sans nods, “Where’s Undyne?”

Another inhuman shriek makes them wince, and Lilith is on her feet, hand moving to clutch at his shoulder, “Hospital. She’s with Alphys and Dominic, the Black Smith, looking into improving his prosthetics. The hospitals as protected as the compound, they’re safe.” 

Sans nods again, his voice verging into desperate, “Papyrus?”

“We’ll watch him.” She promises when she finally releases her grip, moving to take a fist full of the front of his shirt to pull him up higher. He grins and goes willingly to his toes as Lilith leans down a little; her mouth is hot with magic and velvety soft when she kisses him, her tongue rolling over his and he sighs softly into their deepening kiss.

Lilith, regretfully, breaks it first, panting against his teeth lightly, “Be careful.”

Sans nods, “You too.” Lilith nods as well, letting go the front of his shirt so he can drop back down onto his feet, “Love you.”

Giving him one last smile, she whispers back “Love you.” Then turns for the door, leaving an empty, cold space where she had just been.

He grins at her retreating back, seeing her armor shift into its darker, sharper version, the spikes at her spine sharper and longer when he calls out, “Wear your fucking helmet!”

She turns to stick her tongue out at him, but he relaxes as the helmet settles around her pretty face and if it’s looking a little more like one of his Gaster blasters, well, he’s not complaining. She marked him with her name on his sweat bands, he can stake a bit of a claim here.

Shaking himself off a little like a dog shaking off anxiety, Sans side steps into a short cut, reappearing at the back of the stage where the children are filing out the side exit. They slowly shuffle along, and Sans needs to fight his way though, side stepping the kids and slipping between gaps.

Frisk is easy enough to find, she’s near Toriel and making sure all her little pals are making their way safely to the shelter, and when the ground under their feet tremble a little, Sans is sure it’s time to get the hell outta dodge, and shortcuts the short distance to Toriel.

She flinches when Sans appears at her side, the only little gap near Frisk. The kiddo grins up at him, bright and happy, giving him a quick hug before she goes back to ushering other kids along; Sans sees the resurrected prince clutching at his mother, afraid and flinching at the sounds of wrathe’s closing in and Sans firmly ignored him. Today is not the day to deal with wayward princes and emotions.

“Toriel.” Sans nods formally, because they really aren’t friends in this timeline, barely speaking in fact unless it has to do with the kids since just before Gyftmas. A crying shame really, she did have some pretty good puns, but Sans has long since grieved the loss of their friendship and finally let it go.

Her large head turns to him, and her smile is strained but gentle, “Sans.” She’s just as cordial, if not a little standoffish, but Sans doesn’t have time to worry about that, “I take it you’re here for our young ambassador?”

Sans nods, grin a little easier, “Sure am. Lilith’s orders, gonna take the kiddo right home.”

Toriel nods and gets it, she does. Frisk was a symbol of hope for monster kind, for mages too, that they could be something better and Sans has been tasked to protect the Den’s most precious member. “Do be careful.” Her voice is soft and verging into frightened as the world around them rumbles and shakes.

Yup, definitely time to hit bricks; her turns, or tries too, to face Frisk, intends to take her hand and get them out of there when the ground gives a particularly violent shake, and a child in a striped shirt stumbles into his arms.

Sans is thrown off kilter, arms locking around the small body suddenly trembling against him as he gets his footing underneath him. Everything is swirling and trembling, a light comes loose and falls as the world around them is shaking, dust is upheaved into little clouds, and someone screams. Yet, all Sans sees is a striped shirt in his arms and _knows_ that Frist was wearing her purple and blue striped sweater this morning.

It’s not until he’s got a foot into the shortcut, indenting on taking Frisk home, when Toriel is crying out his name that Sans realizes the stripped shirt the kid is wearing is the wrong color. 

Panic squeezed his soul as he stumbled out the other side of the short cut, his hands still gripping onto the kid in his arms tight enough that he was sure he was leaving bruising, and he nearly trips as he lands awkwardly in the room he shares with Lilith at the compound. He struggles to keep his balance and his feet under him, nearly falling on top of the small body in his arms.

His head snaps down, wide sockets taking in the great, frightened green eyes set into a snouted face and white fur as Asriel stares up at him with horror and fear. Panic drops into his non-existent guts like hot iron and Sans hisses as he pulls his hand from the kid’s shoulders as if he’s been burned, stepping away from Asriel like he’s contaminated.

Sans curses, anger and frustration bubbling in his soul as he pulls away quick enough that Asriel stumbles, almost falling himself as great tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Sans fights with himself to not snap at the kid, fights to swallow back that anger that suddenly building in his chest and throat. He’s not sure if he can deal with the kids tears, not with their history.

He rubs his hands against his shorts as if they were filthy, backing up further away from the kid with a sneer until his back hits the wall near the door, and he curses again. The compound is in lock down, every protective charm has been activated, locking him and Asriel alone in the room together with no adult supervision.

Great. 

Sans swallows his panic and anger, glancing around his room; their bed’s in the middle, large, soft and still smells like Lilith, their closet to his direct left, it’s a walk in, but he also knows Lilith keeps extra weaponry in there among their few cloths, just in case. There’s a shelf with book stuffed with novels and Lilith’s Switch, his telescope by the window with the open star map on the floor near it.

“Sans?” Asriel’s voice wobbles with emotion, fear Sans is sure, and he can feel his own panic trying to choke him as fat tears slip down the prince’s face.

“Stop.” Sans’s voice is cold, and it makes the kid flinch back, cringing away from him. Good, kid needs to keep his distance.

Sans licks his teeth and tries to soften his voice with minimal results, “Listen, we’re stuck here until the crisis is over. We just need to survive a few hours at most together, so here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna stay an arms length away from me, in fact, stay on the opposite side of the room and we’re going to play the quiet game until someone comes to get us, yeah?”

Asriel’s head drops, eyes wide and full of tears, “Okay.”

Sans flinches at the sound of his small voice, it sounds too much like…

He shakes it away, pushes the dark memories into a box at the back of his mind and sinks to the floor with his back to the wall, leaning against it, “Good, get comfortable. We’re gonna be here a while.” He doesn’t mean to sneer, doesn’t mean to be cruel, but fear is lancing his soul and this particular wound hasn’t quite healed clean.

Asriel nods again, sinking to the bed, sitting on his soft blue comforter and Sans can’t help but cringe. Gross, but he’ll clean it later. Or maybe burn it, yeah burning sounds better.

Making a small, weak noise, Asriel’s hands knot and fidget as he tries not to cry while his breath hitches and warbles, the silence between them thick and uncomfortable. That’s just fine with Sans, he doesn’t need the kid talking to him, just gotta play the quiet game for a bit.

Sighing, Sans lets his head drop into his hands as he lifts his knees. He’s just has to stay calm until Lilith comes for him. Fuck, he hopes Frisk is okay, but knows that Toriel wouldn’t do anything to endanger her. She would take care of his kid, and he’s sure he can manage the same.

How hard could it be to ignore a single kid?

“Sans?” he sighs at Asriel’s hesitant voice, fear a very real in his voice.

“Have you never played the quiet game?” he groans loudly into his hands, not bothering to lift his head.

Asriel shifts nervously, and Sans is sure he’ll stay quiet when he asks, “Do you think my mom’s okay?”

Sans sighs again and lifts his head, taking in the hunched, frightened kid, and tries not to feed into his own pulse of annoyance and fear, “Probably. She’ll take Frisk to the shelter and wait it out until the mages can deal with it.”

Nodding, Asriel hunches a little further into himself, “Okay.”

Shaking his head, Sans leans a little further back into the wall, the surface uncomfortable and unforgiving at his shoulders and skull, and already his coccyx is starting to ache from sitting on the floor; but like hell was he going to make the move to his bed and be anywhere near the prince.

Just as long as they keep their distance, this would be fine. He could manage being in the same room as Asriel, he _could_ do this.

He tries not to flinch when Asriel toes off his shoes, and pulls his little feet up onto the bed, and yup, he’s burning that comforter, and tries not to see things that aren’t there; the movement is _not_ a prelude to an attack, Asriel does not mean him harm, as far as he can tell. He can calm down, nothing bad is going to happen.

At least that’s what he’s trying to convince his throbbing soul and the panic that is clawing at the base of his spine and trying to climb its way up to join the anger that’s settled nicely in his chest. Yup. Everything’s fine. 

He tries to settle, accepts that he’s going to be tired and sore after this and will probably need to have his spine realigned after sitting on the floor for hours, but it’ll be fine. Asriel just needs to stay quiet, and he’ll stay calm and everything will be just fine.

“He-hey Sans?” the voice is smaller then ever, shaky and afraid.

With a sigh, Sans really just wished the kid would get with the fucking program and ignore him like his parents tended to do now. That’d be swell. “What?” he doesn’t mean to sound so angry, he really doesn’t.

He’s tired and stressed and is not prepared for this situation at all. He just wants to get through it in one piece without snapping or -more likely- panicking and putting a bone through the kids’ chest. He doesn’t want to be the cause of Toriel losing her kid or Frisk losing her friend. He doesn’t want to be the reason tension builds between the mages and monsters because he couldn’t keep his shit together.

His chat with Bobby certainly isn’t helping any, drudging up memories and feelings he’d really only started to cope with. Memories that he was still going to therapy to manage and sort through, pain that still lingered and wounds that were only _now_ starting to heal clean. Just, not this one. 

Asriel takes a long moment to rally his courage, hands fisting into the arms of his sweater, “I’m sorry.” It’s a softly spoken apology that has Sans stiffening.

He doesn’t say anything, lowers his head when his soul pulses with unease as his eye lights gutter out. The prince takes his silence as permission to keep speaking soft and low, “I know you don’t believe me. And that’s okay, but I’m not,” he hesitates to say Flowey’s name, and has a good reason not to, “I’m not him.”

“But you were.” Sans hisses out coldly before he can stop himself, anger bubbling up towards the surface in a vicious wave that makes his soul warble.

Ariel’s eyes fill with tears and he rubs at his chest as if he’s in pain, “I know. And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…it was wrong. I shouldn’t have…I couldn’t feel anything.”

Sans feels anger rear, feels it clawing up his throat and he’s not exactly sure when his hands began to tremble, “Yeah? Oh well then, that makes it okay doesn’t?” he cant help the sarcasm before anger bubbled hotter and his LV tugged on his soul, “It doesn’t mean what you did was okay, just because you couldn’t feel guilty for doing it. You knew the difference between right and wrong even when you were a soulless little fuck.”

Asriel flinches as Sans continues, “And the only reason you can feel now is because you stole a soul.”

The tears fall a little more readily from large green eyes, and Sans looks away. Sullen and hurting, his arms snake around his rib cage to hug himself.

“I know.” He tells Sans softly, voice full of the same agony that Sans knows all too well about, “I hurt you Sans and I’m so sorry.”

Sans sneers, his anger peeking, “Hurt me? You helped Chara torture me. You held me down while Oliva _raped_ me. You were an instrumental part of breaking me down, taring me apart! Then you tried to do the same to Frisk and my brother. And you want what? Forgiveness?”

Asriel cringed, looking down, biting at his lower lip when he shrugged and nodded, “Maybe?”

Sans can’t help but laugh bitterly, “Yeah, forgiveness. I’m sure I can find it in me to forgive you for helping Chara kill my brother and feeding me his dust.”

Sniffling, Asriel curled tighter into his ball, misery and shame filling his young features and Sans has to look away. Even when Sans had been Asgore’s executioner, he had never liked to see people suffer. He made sure his kills were as smooth and quick as possible, the only secret he shared with Undyne when she took the roll from him when he couldn’t do it anymore.

Fuck, maybe he was already fractured when Asriel was killed and Flowey popped up in his place to sink vicious claws into him. Maybe Sans, was always just an easy and convenient target. 

Curling tighter into his own ball of misery, Sans pulled his knees in tighter to his chest, dropped his head onto his knees and tried to focus on breathing and not the strain in his soul.

“San-Sans?”

Heaving a sigh, Sans curses, “What?” if his own voice was rough and reedy, no one was making mention of it. 

Asriel hesitates before quietly asking, “How did you gain forgiveness?”

That pulls Sans’s face from his knees, his mouth tugging into a frown, “What?” most of his anger is snuffed out by that soft, hesitant question, and it seems to take Asriel by surprise that he didn’t yell.

Wiping his face with a green sleeve, he continues, “How did you do it? The mages don’t hate you even though you killed all those kids. How did you…how did you do it?”

Sans just stares at him for a long while, eye lights slowly coming back when he hoarsely says, “Bold of you to assume I deserve forgiveness.”

Asriel looks down, looking ever more distraught, “Oh.”

Shaking his head, Sans rubs at his sockets with the palm of his hand, cursing that bones make terrible mops for tears, “Why?”

“Because you have it. The mages don’t hate you; no one hates you.” He told him softly.

Some place deep inside, someplace well protected by layers of sarcasm and cruelty presses on a bruised part of his soul, and Sans snorts to hide his own discomfort, “Lots of people hate me kid. Bobby made damn sure of that.”

He’s the fallen Judge, the one who turned his back on the Kingdom and the Angle herself because he couldn’t hack it. The one who collected six little souls and couldn’t bring himself to make it seven. The one who forced poor King Asgore to do his own dirty work when his LV was already so high. 

That awkward, awful silence is thick between them again when Asriel sighs and softly says, “Oh.” He pauses, glances outside at the sound of magic and dragons, and wipes at his face, “Everyone hates me.” He says softly, “For things I can barely remember. Hating me for someone I’m not anymore. I just…I don’t want people to hate me anymore.”

That achy bruised part of Sans presses inward, and he curses himself. If pressed, Sans wouldn’t have an answer for why he did what he was about to do. Everything in him screamed to disengage and leave the prince to himself, he had his own support system, he sure as fuck didn’t need Sans.

Yet, maybe Lilith was right, monsters are made of magic and forgiveness and mercy; pushing himself to his feet, he sees Asriel’s eyes going wide as he slowly shuffles to his bed and perches on the edge on the opposite side of the mattress. He lets his feet dangle a little, swinging them as he frowns down at his knees, his hands still trembling between them.

Asriel is small and still like prey hiding from a predator, staring with wide frightened eyes before Sans slowly let’s loose the breath he was holding, “Fourteen.” He says softly. 

The fear loosens into something like confusion, “Fourteen?”

Sans nods, still looking at his hands, “That’s how many times I murdered Frisk when she stepped out of the ruins after a bad run. The really bad ones. The ones where I didn’t know where I was when I woke up in my bed after and thought we were still trapped in the last timeline.”

Blinking at him, Asriel looked down with a small _oh_ , and fidgeted with his hands as it clicks what Sans means by a bad run. He stays quiet, so Sans went on, “I dunno why I’m telling you this.” He mutters more to himself, before going on stronger, “But you need to start forgiving yourself kid. You can’t force others to forgive you, but you gotta start somewhere.”

Sans shifted nervously, bones itching with how close Asriel was and he thankfully didn’t move closer, “You in therapy?”

Asriel shook his head no, “Mom tried to talk to me about it, but…” his eyes filled with tears, and he choked on a sob.

Sans nodded, “Right.” Toriel wasn’t going to push her kid when he wasn’t ready, and that _was_ something Sans could understand at the very least, “Yeah. Okay so, listen, go to therapy. Sloan will help your mom find a good one.” Just not theirs, thanks, “It’ll, it’ll help.”

Asriel nodded, wiping at his face, “Thanks Sans.” He nodded at the words, still tense and hurting, that stupid bruised place pressing inwards, “Do you think we’ll ever be friends?”

“No.” it’s a quick answer, and unfair or not, Sans knows it’s the truth, “Regardless if your Flowey or not, or what, we won’t be friends. Way too much bad blood for that. Best we can hope for is to tolerate each other.”

Asriel looked down, looking a little sad and nodded, “Okay Sans.”

Sans nods, mental armor and barriers slotting back into place after coming down for that little soul to soul, “Yeah. Sure.” He twists a little to look out the window, taking a bit of comfort at the bright flash of crimson magic, knows that Lilith isn’t dead yet, “Alright kid. It’s gonna be a while yet before anyone comes to let us out.” It was time to depend on old reliable, “Lets take a nap.”

Asriel gives him a little sniff and nods, curling up in a little ball, and closes his eyes.

Sans’s thin frame shivers involuntarily, and emotion twists in his soul. He doesn’t know how to feel right now, seems to be happening a lot lately, but he can’t stay this close to Asriel. Not yet at least.

He takes up his position back by the door, his spine pressed into the unforgiving wall and has come to terms that he’s going to be sore when this is all done, both mentally and physically; Asriel’s breathing slows as he falls asleep, body going limp and soft in his bed.

Sans can’t sleep, and he’s tense and anxious while he waits for the mages to come home.

-

It’s hours before he hears the front door slam open, and someone tripping through it; long enough that the sun has sank beneath the horizon, and it’s a clear, moonless night. It would have been a great night to star gaze, that much is for sure.

Too bad Sans’s stress is somewhere up in the stratosphere, and he would probably spend the night under the tin roof of the porch, chain smoking and trying to get his hands to stop shaking in what he refuses to call fear.

He can hear someone coming up the stairs, probably forgot she could trace when she’s this panicked and not thinking clearly, before Lilith burst through their bedroom door. She’s panting hard and still in heavy battle armor, splattered with blood and soot, and the thick black almost fluid that wrathe’s bled.

She looks unharmed, no new scars on her face despite her paler than normal skin and wide, crimson eyes. Her jaw is tense enough that Sans can see a tick in the muscle near the hinge, and he’s worried she’ll chip a tooth. 

Bright crimson eyes fall to Asriel, whose still asleep in their bed as Sans pushes himself lazily to his feet and tries for unruffled, “Heya evil mage. I, uh, grabbed the wrong kid. Sorry.” If his voice breaks a little, he thinks he’s owed that much emotional leeway.

She spins towards him, making it look equal parts deadly and grace, wide, desperate eyes falling on him in panic. Her shoulder fall from their high position with relief and exhaustion, and when she pulls him into a hard hug, he doesn’t resist and doesn’t care that he’s covered in gore.

Lilith lets out a shaky breath, as Sans wraps his arms around her ribs, her steel chest plate biting into the bone of his arms as he held on for all his worth and buried his face into the hard, filthy armor. Her breathing sooths quickly when she has him, the desperate panting coming out in light puffs against the top of his skull as she calms. 

There are more thundering footsteps coming up the stairs, and Felix’s voice calling out, “Toriel wait, we don’t know what’s in there!” and that really is affair warning, all things considering.

The Queen is massive in their bedroom, making it look so much smaller then it really is as bursts into the room. Toriel’s face is stricken with the same panic that Lilith radiated but only hid slightly better, and it melts into relief to see her son sound asleep and unharmed on their bed.

Great tears fill her eyes, and she sucks back a huff of a sob before she crosses the room to scoop her son up into her arms and against her chest.

Asriel startles but cries out and clings to his mother when he sees that it’s her, softly sobbing while Toriel hushes him. Sans’s voice is muffled when he speaks, mouth pressed into Lilith’s chest plate and he can nearly taste blood, “Sorry Tori. Didn’t mean to scare ya, thought it was Frisk that fell into me before I realized it wasn’t.”

Toriel has her face pressed into the top of her son’s head, and gives him a little nod, “It’s alright Sans.” Sans isn’t sure if that’s the truth, but he’s too emotionally exhausted to drag out the Judge and see for sure. “Thank you for taking care of him.” That sounds a little more genuine, but Sans wonders if she’s really thanking him for not snapping.

Small victories and all that.

Still, Sans nods from where Lilith has tucked him, safe and protected, “’Course. Everyone else okay?”

Felix slides to a stop at the door, eyes wide as he glances between the two group, and his own shoulders drop in what can only be relief. Lilith glances up at her brother, before answering, “Everyone fine. Paps is downstairs with Ryder and Lola, they’re going to order dinner, we’ve used up a lot of magic. Frisk is downstairs too, she’s safe. Undyne and Alphys should be home soon too, Dominic is coming over too.” Sans can feel the grin against his skull, and he clings harder to Lilith, “Apparently he and Alphys got along like a house on fire.”

Sans nods, but all the bottled emotions and fear that he’s been pressing down are starting to bubble to the surface and he’s not certain how much longer he can suck it back for, so he clings a little harder to Lilith.

Lilith drops a bloody kiss to his skull, and shares a significant look with Felix; hell, maybe one day he’ll be able to speak battle mage. Whatever is said with that look, Felix gets it immediately, and with a bright, cheery grin that is at odds with his dishevelled, sweaty and bloody state he turns sunnily to the monster Queen, “Hey Toriel, why don’t you guys come on down and stay for supper. It’s been stressful as fuck and I bet your kid’s hungry.”

And if Sans asked for it, Felix would merrily kick them both out of the compound faster then Sans could spit; but he’s tired, just too tired.

Toriel glances to Lilith’s back, where she’s pulled Sans firmly against her front so that only her armored back could be seen, disregarding the Queen of Monsters.

She sighs, and gives Felix a polite smile, “Thank you Felix, that would be wonderful, I’m sure Frisk would enjoy it.”

Sans would bet dollars to donuts all Toriel wants to do is get he hell out of a potentially hostile environment with her kid and go home, but she isn’t stupid enough to refuse food from a mage and risk slighting them.

Felix lays on the charm, giving her a thousand-watt smile before stepping out of the room to give space for her to pass. It would put Felix at her back, but no way in hell the mage is giving her, his.

Toriel hesitates only a moment to softly say, “Thank you Sans.”

He nods against Lilith, his voice muffled, “Yup.” Then she’s gone, taking Asriel with her.

Felix pauses only briefly to pop his head in with a shrewd look, checking up on them before he pulls the door closed behind him, allowing Sans his time to break. 

The moment he hears the door click shut, his body gives an involuntary shutter, and emotion chocks him, making it hard to breath. 

“Sans, are you with me?” Lilith’s voice is small and hard, her arms heavy around is shoulders when he shakes his head no, cringing into himself.

She pulls away from their embrace only enough to drop to her knees and pulls him into a harder hug, effectively wrapping herself around him. Sans goes willingly, clinging to her for all his worth, and if her throat grows wet where he’s tucked his face, Lilith doesn’t say a anything. She holds him tighter, and gently rocks him, whispering promises and sweet nothings of comfort.

Sans clings on, soaks up that care and comfort like a sponge; and maybe he hates himself a little less now, dropped a little of that suffocating hatred that made his soul feel heavy. He isn’t completely sure if he did nor not, but when he trembles in Lilith’s arms and she squeezes him tight, maybe he does feel a little better. A little less unsteady.

If anything, it’s a step in the right direction and for now, that’ll have to be enough. 


	15. Dance, Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were supposed to be training, but then Lilith has always managed to surprise Sans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends, 
> 
> Well this is it. The last chapter of this arc and the last chapter of the slice of life stories that were planned. I hope you enjoyed the ride and had some fun. 
> 
> There will be a bigger note at the end. 
> 
> No warnings in this chapter, this is 100% fluff (for the most part) I thought our mages and monsters needed to end on a high note and have a few moments of soft peace before they get hit by the angst train. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The sound of metal on metal was sharp in the room that smelt heavily of sweat; not the kind of sweat that came from fear and pain - thankfully- but born of a solid workout, and enjoyment in what one was doing. The kind of sweat one worked up in hot yoga, sweltering hot from movement, only with more swords and axes.

The thick smell of coppery blood was missing too, this was not a fight, not a real one in any case, but a scrimmage that was bordering on playful now.

Sans shifted from his spot sprawled over his mat on his back, head tilted just enough to watch Lilith and Felix still training; they danced around each other, slashing and hacking at each other with swords and axes, attacks where parried and blocked with practiced ease. Attacks were met with counter attacks, and those were met with counter-counter attacks, they were disarmed and rearmed over and over, an intricate dance of grace and strength. They’d been at it for hours, even dragging Sans out to the training room to start teaching him basic self defense, how to really fight, just in case he ever had to. Taught him how to sharpen his skill at sensing intent.

He didn’t have battle mage endurance, not many outside their mage subcategory did, and after only a little while he was left panting on the mats while they tore at each other with a viciousness that only battle mages could posses; when pressed why they trained so hard, worked out at a near breaking point to keep their bodies in tip top shape and honed into perfect weapons, both Lilith and Felix would stare at you as if you’d grown another head and respond, as if it was obvious, that magic could only take them so far. They had to put real work into staying prepared.

They were starting to slow down, _finally_ , pulling punches when before they would have aimed to cause bruises or broken bones for bragging rights; and if Sans felt the spark of pride that Lilith looked like she would walk away with the honor of breaking Felix’s nose _twice,_ he’d make sure that he bragged to anyone who’d listen how amazing his girlfriend was. Felix was a fierce competitor, fast and as equally vicious, and it was a badge of honor to land such a strike.

Groaning Sans sat up and stretched, sore but relaxed as he watched them continue to dance around each other is a graceful rhythm of flashing magic and slashing blades of their choice.

“Most marvelous date mate,” Sans grinned at his brother’s voice, just as weary but Papyrus had lasted longer then he had, “Are these two always like this?”

Ryder’s face went bright red at the term of endearment, especially when Undyne let lose a full belly laugh from behind them, her head nestled into Alphys’s lap, giving Ryder a shark-tooth grin. The big mage cleared his throat with a rough cough, and readjusted Papyrus head in his own lap, “Yeah. They’ll be at it for hours more if we let them.”

Frisk, exhausted from being taught how to defend herself, the training regiment only _slightly_ modified for her age, huffed an airy laugh at her big brothers’ embarrassment, brining a grin to Papyrus’s face.

They were all sweating, the drills that Felix and Lilith insisted they start to learn were important but brutally exhausting, and that was _before_ they had started to spar; Undyne at least had been excited and was ready to have the battle mages come and help her incorporate the training into the Royal security team’s training.

Undyne had not been super impressed how easily all the mages, mostly Lilith and Felix but Sloan had been right behind them, could disarm her and had demanded that they teach her. Sans had hated it and was tempted to detach him arm at the shoulder to toss at his mate just to watch her look horrified so he could escape.

It was a trick he hadn’t shown her yet and was saving it for the right occasion.

Lola groaned from Sans’s other side, as flat out as he was but still had the stamina to keep up for a time, she had built that endurance up from the war but looked no less annoyed, “Sloan.” She sighed, “Do something about your battle mages.”

Sitting up, Sloan was cross legged on her own foam mat, sucking back deeply from her water bottle and snorted, “Why are they always _my_ battle mages when they’re training or doing something stupid?”

Lola snorted herself, not bothering to sit up and stayed in her sprawled position, “You’re the oldest?”

Sloan shook her head and wiped the sweat from her brow, “If anything they’re Sans’s battle mages. He should deal with them.”

Lilith and Felix danced further across the training floor, feet moving with unnatural speed and stability as Felix backed Lilith up, the clang of metal sharp as they attacked and defended, which was followed by dark laughter, Lilith’s or Felix’s even Sans couldn’t be sure. “Oh, I don’t think so.” He said quickly, a grin pulling at his mouth, “I’ve only got a claim on one of them, and that’s enough.” 

Ryder laughs from behind them, it’s huffy and tired, and when Sans looks back, he smiles when he sees Ryder gently petting Papyrus’ brow with the soft pads of his fingers; Papyrus looking completely blissed out and content. “I know how to get them to stop.” He says eventually, still petting Papyrus, “But I’m not getting up.”

Sans grins at the very pointed look he gives Sloan, who startles at his look and frowns. Whatever plan Ryder has, Lola knows what it is _immediately,_ only moving enough to pout at Sloan and nudge at her sister with a bare toe, “Please Sloan?”

The spell caster seems to double down, straitens her spine, and turns her face away to not look at her brother and sister, firmly ignoring them. Undyne huffs another laugh, and Sloan’s resolve only breaks when Papyrus softly asks, “Please, Sloan? It would be marvellous to have something to eat.”

Its Sans turn to grin and snicker when she sighs and slumps, breaking at the soft plead from his brother, and really, who could tell Papyrus no? “Alright fine.” She huffs looking annoyed at a battle so easily lost, “But I’m not helping clean up after lunch.”

Lola relaxes into her mat, tired grin bright in victory as she and Ryder nod, “Deal.” They say at the same time, and it as Sloan rolling her eyes before she traces away, disappearing into a dusty cloud of magic and blue stardust.

Reappearing on the other side of the training room on her feet, where Felix has set up a little stereo that he’s Macgyvered to work with speakers that were far too big for it, but he claims it _brings the base._

Sans hasn’t quite figured out what the hell that means, but Felix takes delight in it, so best not to question it.

Sloan does something to the stereo, hooks her phone into the port but Sans can’t see what play list she’s putting on before she’s back on her mat. She settles with that unnatural grace that she has; every movement deliberate and considered as she settles with a wide grin as she leans back onto her hands. Stretching her legs out in front of her, she gives her feet a little wiggle when she swings that grin towards Sans, “You haven’t seen them dance before, have you?” 

The grin falls a little, and Sans lifts a brow at Sloan and even Papyrus pushes himself up to his elbows to give her a disbelieving look, “Lilith doesn’t dance.” Sans is so sure, there’s just no way his tough as hell, no-nonsense, battle mage girlfriend, would dance.

Sloan’s grin grows and she looks delighted, “Oh, I assure you she does Sans.” The music hasn’t come on yet and the battle mages are still sparing hard, “Usually only with us around, but she does. Rather well.”

Sans gives her a shrewd look, and frankly, he doesn’t believe her, “No.”

Sloan only looks more thrilled, nodding to where Lilith and Felix are sparing, “They say it’s like fighting without the hitting. Remember their magic is rooted in the body and movement, how they use that is determined by circumstance.” She shrugs as the music starts, and Sans sits up a little straighter, grin hitching a little higher.

No way, there was no way. Not his girl, Lilith couldn’t dance, surely.

The beat starts from the speakers, deep and heavy and Sans recognizes the song that one is often played during cardio training, The Box by Roddy Ricch, and it makes Lilith and Felix freeze; Felix is on his knees, having only just blocked a downward strike from Lilith, both his axes high over his head to stop her swords from sinking into his shoulders.

They suddenly grin at each other, and even from where he’s sitting, Sans can see it that it’s bright and wide before they pull apart and dismiss their weaponry. Lilith pulls her brother to his feet before she takes two paces to his left, and they shake themselves out as if shaking off the last of their training energy and settled a little on their feet.

Sloan leans over as the energy suddenly changes, its more energetic and there’s a sudden anticipation when she mock whispers, “Remember, our Coven wasn’t made of warriors before the war. Most of our people were farmers, storytellers and entertainers.”

Her eyes sparkle with joy as the singer starts and the battle mages start to dance; Sans feels his jaw drop a little, as they move in perfect unison, nearly fucking choregraphed, starting with a little pop and a fist thrust before they slid into some fancy foot work, similar to how they moved in training. The movements of their arms and hands, not anything he’d seen from Lilith before.

Their movements as tight and lightning fast as if they were sparing, moving in near perfect unity, as Felix’s face pulled into a goofy, bright grin. Sans felt his soul warm at seeing his mate’s usually cold face brightening a little, the smallest of grins curling at the corners of her mouth as she moved.

Sans felt his soul pulse happily, something akin to excitement humming through his bones at watching the joy sparkle in her eyes, and he was happy to see Lilith happy. Relaxed for once, safe in the sanctuary of the compound surrounded by their people, safe enough to cut lose a little.

His own grin grew, pulling at his mouth happily as he watched the mages dance smoothly, moving in ways Sans would have put good money on never seeing Lilith move before; magic gathers heavily in his pelvis, leaks from the bones readily and he shifts his legs apart as discreetly as he can watching his mate dance. Hip checking, making direct eye contact with him as she did with a saucy grin, and yeah, okay that was pretty hot.

Sloan leans over, and Sans isn’t sure she realizes what this is doing to him right now, mouth pulled into a soft grin at watching the battle mages dance, “Our Coven leaders discovered quickly that battle mages who were well connected, even if they were not Den mates, could work exceptionally well together. Den mates are better together, their magic acting as a bridge to each other, so they know how the other will move before they do it, but simply being a battle mage does help. They’re a social group, needing to be around other people and the best fighters in our army were troops who could move as one, and dance was the most efficient if not unorthodox way to cement those bridges.”

Sans frowns a little, his magic not cooling at all as he watches Lilith and Felix shift and shimmy, moving with a suddenly eery unity that took on a potentially dark under tone, “Like a hive mind?”

Sloan shakes her head no, looking almost amused, “No, more like a brief shared consciousness. They can move as one, because they _know_ what the other is doing. They are still themselves, they can still make decisions, but they will always know where their battle buddies are. Den mates more so, and how they will move. It’s more, instinct.” 

Snorting, Sans nodded and pretended he got it fully beyond knowing that instinct was a powerful thing. Mage magic and monster magic where two vastly different sorts of magics, working differently and effecting the world differently. No matter how close he was to someone, he’d never know how they were going to suddenly move instinctually, and play follow the leader with them. He’d never be able to do that with something fun like dancing, never mind in times of pressure, but Lilith could.

There’s another flush of pride as Sans turns to watch his girlfriend dance, knowing with his entire soul that she _was_ amazing. More then the killer she saw herself, more then the warrior her Coven saw her, more then the embodiment of Death that her enemies saw.

She was Lilith, and Sans loved her.

The song came to an end as Lilith and Felix slid into their ‘finishing move’, Felix’s face pulled into a goofy look again, his long, flat tongue sticking out while Lilith’s mouth pulled into a soft grin, eyes sparkling with happiness that made Sans’s soul pulse with happiness again. 

The Den on the floor burst into clapping and cheers that make’s Lilith’s face go red as she falls out of her stance, scratching the back of her neck a little bashfully as Felix brightens at the attention and gives an over exaggerated bow with a happy laugh.

The dance has completely changed the mood in the room, the competitive from the battle mages is gone and they’re relaxed and bright. Even their laughter has changed, lighter and airy. It makes Sans smile, and he relaxes into his mat and with a quick glance around to the others in the room, knows this is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

“You guys hungry I take it?” Felix laughs as they stroll over, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“Yes.” Lola groans from her sprawled position before she pushes herself up, “You two don’t know when to quit.” There’s no heat to her voice and she grins at her brother and sister.

They don’t look ashamed, and they both shrug in that eery unison that still clings to them as another song starts to play. It’s softer and slower then the song they just danced to, and Felix’s face lights up like the sun before he turns those sharp eyes to Sans.

He freezes when Felix gives him that shrewd look, “Sans, come dance with your girlfriend.” It’s a demand that has both Sans and Lilith blushing, and Sans finds himself sputtering a little.

“I can’t dance.” He blurts even when desperate eye lights look to Lilith’s face, and he hesitates when he sees a splash of hopefulness there and gone in the blink of an eye.

Felix rolls his eyes as he strolls to Frisk, holding his hand to her, her face brightening as she takes the offering and he helps her to her feet, “Everyone can dance, it’s just moving. Besides this is Christina Perri’s A Thousand Years. It’s like law to dance with your partner to this song.”

He gave a very pointed look to Undyne and Ryder, earning a huffing laugh from his brother and a deep blush from the monster as Felix took even steps backwards with Frisk. She giggled as Felix let her step onto his feet so she could dance with him.

“WELL!” Papyrus says brightly, eyes gleaming with joy as he pushes himself to his feet, dragging Ryder to his own, “IF IT IS LAW, THEN WHO ARE WE TO BREAK SAID LAW. WE ARE, AFTER ALL, LAW ABIDING CITIZENS.”

Sans grins as he watches his brother lead Ryder to the mats, the big scary mage going obediently with him, scared face softened with love for Papyrus. Papyrus tugs him into potion, pulling Ryder’s thick body flush against his thinner one, arms going around Ryder’s waist to hold him securely as Ryder’s thick arms went gently around Papyrus’s shoulders.

Papyrus beamed up at his mate, bright and happy, soft even when his voice is loud when he calls out to Undyne, “IT’S A SHAME THAT NO ONE ELSE HAS THE COURAGE TO DANCE.”

His grin widens and Ryder has to hide his laughter into Papyrus’s shoulder when Undyne sputters, “I’ll show you courage!” she snaps, and even Sans laughs a little as she leads Alphys to the matts to start with their slow swaying.

Whelp, guess he better step the fuck up; Sans shuffles to his mate, glancing down and away as he scratches at his cheek, “So uh. I really can’t dance. Pretty sure I’ve got two left feet.”

Lilith gives him a little grin before she cups his cheeks and gives him a small kiss to his teeth. He sighs into the chaste kiss and relaxes as her hands fall lightly to his shoulders, “This is easy.” She promises, leading him away from the resting area and back to the training mats. Sans goes willingly, allows her to put his hands to her waist as her arms go around his shoulders and pulls him close.

It’s a bit awkward at first, and Sans really isn’t coordinated enough to even sway with her without stepping on her feet and even if Lilith doesn’t wince, he does when hard bone digs into soft skin. “Relax.” Lilith whispers to him softly, “It’s just swaying.”

Sans snorts, and tries really hard not to trod on her bare feet, “You say that as if that’s not really hard.” 

Lilith snorts a laugh, and he spots Felix twirl Frisk, her little airy laughter bright as he reels her back in. Sans frowns a little, knowing he doesn’t have the height to do that with Lilith. She’s got a good eleven inches on him, and he tries not to be a little disappointed by that, “Since when can you dance?” he asks softly, and there’s no viciousness in his voice, only genuine curiosity.

Lilith goes red as they sway, “It’s Felix who really can dance. He watches videos online and learns the steps. I mimic him until it’s imbedded in muscle memory.” She gives him a little shrug, “It’s a good way to work on balance and foot work.”

The music is soft and soothing, and Sans grins up at his mate, his soul soothing with reassurance; he sees Ryder dip Papyrus, hears his brother’s soft laughter as he clings to his big mate’s broad shoulders and he’s pulled up wards.

Sans grins a little, gets an idea. He may not be tall enough to spin Lilith, and technically not strong enough to dip her on his own but he’s got a lot of magic, he’s got gravity magic. There’s a little merry ting as he turns her soul blue, and before she can ask what he’s doing, he dips her back, hand on her mid back and the other at the back of her neck, holding her up with magic.

Lilith laughs as she grasps at his shoulders, fingers digging in and curling into his t-shirt as she relaxes into his magic that cradles her in the dip. That soft, lovely feeling swells in his soul again, and Sans doesn’t doubt for a moment he’s exactly where he should be.

He dips his head, steals a soft kiss that has Lilith’s eyes slipping shut as she moans softly against his teeth; her lips parting as an invite, and his summoned tongued rolls over hers softly. She sighs into their deepening kiss, delighted by the taste of his magic, the sweet-sour that reminds her of candy.

Sans chuckles as he pulls her back up, settling her on her feet, and if he steps on her again, Lilith only grins down at him, lowering her head to nuzzle at the top of his skull.

Sans grins, knows what it feels like to love and be loved. To be cherished and to be someone’s favorite.

Around them, their family dances, and he grins when he sees that Sloan has dragged Lola along too, dancing and laughing, acting silly and happy. Sans knows that no matter what, no matter the challenge, everything will be alright. He has his family and his mate, and they love him as much as he loves them.

In the end, everything will turn out alright and that’s something Sans believes with his entire being.

-

He falls through the portal and lands painfully on his side, his broken ribs pressing inward that causes his vision to white out with blinding pain, dragging a hiss from between his teeth. His crown tumbles from his skull, rolling into the damp grass as all the air rushes from his rib cage and he curses his brother.

He didn’t need to break his ribs, really.

Coughing up marrow, weary eye lights lift to the universe he’s landed in and frowns. He’s far from battle, but this place looks safe. Before him, there’s a low-lying building, and he can feel magic and love from whoever is inside, the aura’s here bright, a good sign for him.

With a groan, he pushes himself to his feet and hopes whoever is inside has seen monsters before otherwise this will be an awkward conversation. Not that any explanation isn’t going to be weird, and Sanses usually reacted badly when they dropped into their universes for the first time, so if there’s one here this’ll go bad anyways.

Well, at least they’re on the surface, that’s a good sign. A good sign that the Frisk of this world leans towards being a pacifist, and hopefully won’t mind helping him out.

He wipes away the trail of marrow from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and limps to the front door of the building. He hesitates only a moment, taking the time to enjoy the warm spring air before he knocks on the heavy door.

His head tilts when green shield magic ripple around the door, and he grins with a burst of joy despite the pain he’s in when he’s sure that magic is still alive and well in this world.

He has hope here, and he puts on his best smile when he hears heavy footsteps from inside the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well friends, that's it, that's all. The first arc is completely done, but there's so many questions left unanswered. (Will Felix ever find a mate that doesn't try to kill him? Does Sans ever find Gaster in the void or will he lose his dad forever? Is Gaster the only thing in the void?) 
> 
> There is a much longer second arc planned, which I was going to write out in a number of smaller stories but I think I'm going to set them up more as longer stories and clump the appropriate chapters together to feel more like an on going story much like how The Ninety Fourth Time was written as one continuous story. The first chapter just needs one last read through and it's ready to be posted, so keep an eye out for the next installment of Its A Mage Kind of World. 
> 
> Thanks for coming on this journey with me, and I hope to see you in the next half.  
> Ps. if your interested in seeing how Lilith and Felix dance, this is the video that inspired the chapter; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_lgcmYSePGA they would dance the most like the first couple that start this video out, or the couple at 230. 
> 
> Thank you all.


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